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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388067">A Potions Tutor with Benefits</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geat/pseuds/Geat'>Geat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Slow Burn, Slytherin Reader, They’re all 16 or older I just want to write about the yule ball, Tutoring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:35:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geat/pseuds/Geat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you transfer to Hogwarts for your 4th year only to find that Ilvermorny's Potions curriculum is drastically different from that of your British peers? One Draco Malfoy is, unfortunately, assigned to the case. He's pleased to find that you're a quick learner, annoyed to be in this situation in the first place. That is, until another arrangement seemingly springs from the ashes of your tutoring sessions. One question remains: What lesson will you teach the Malfoy boy?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy &amp; Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy &amp; Reader, Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader, Minimal Fred Weasley/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Strange Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! Sooo this is my first time writing a Harry Potter fic. Also kinda my first time writing ~any~ fic in a long ass while (but ya know Dracotok drew me in), so feedback is absolutely appreciated</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Were you sleeping on a couch in the Slytherin common room? Yes. Were you absolutely exhausted from the days' events? Absolutely. Were you just scared shitless by a looming figure as you moved to turn away from the fireplace? Definitely.</p><p>"What the fuck?" You whisper-shouted, aware of the fact that the common room was, in fact, a public area, even if it was 3 in the morning. The words came out harsher than even you were expecting, but at least they didn't betray your absolute terror.</p><p>"I could say the same thing," the figure, clearly male, mused from several feet above you. Making to sit up on the couch, you hoped to catch a better glance at who had decided to interrupt your sleep. The figure leaned in closer. "Was that an American accent I heard? Explains the entitlement," he scoffed.</p><p>Your confusion and terror resembled more of a dull annoyance by the time your eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness of the room. The fire helped a bit, lighting his lean figure from behind to reveal a shock of silvery white hair. The crown of light at his head was nearly ethereal. At least, it would've been, if not for the marring effect of his scowl cutting through the darkness.</p><p>"Astute, are we? Yeah, I'm a transfer. Got sorted alone by some lady named McGonagall before they dumped me in my dorm to settle in without dinner. The only reason I'm down here was to sneak into the kitchens under the cover of dark. Must've fallen asleep," a yawn escaped you.</p><p>"Pity, you're not an exchange student then?"</p><p>"Here to stay, unfortunately," your head dipping to pick at a nonexistent chip in your nail. Quieter, "I suppose that's what happens when your Great Aunt kicks the bucket." You looked up to gauge his reaction, but it seemed he had already busied himself, searching for something in his robes. With a triumphant look, he pulled a 10 or so inch wand from an interior pocket of his robes, revealing an equally as interesting pair of gray sweats and an emerald green jumper before smoothing the robes back against his sides. You looked down at your own pajamas, an over-sized sweatshirt and athletic shorts, before pulling your blanket more firmly against your lap. Your attention was drawn back to the boy as he whispered a quiet <i>lumos!</i></p><p>His face was more visible with the soft light emitting from his wand. You hated to admit it, but he was rather attractive with his pale hair, sharp features, and annoyingly straight nose. Pale lashes framed what you could only describe as silver eyes, somewhere between a pale blue and dark gray.</p><p>"Well then, I'm off," he said almost to himself, turning away and towards the door.

</p><p>Using your arms to push off the couch, you replied, "Where are we going?" meeting him at the common room door.</p><p>"There is no <i>we</i>," he scoffed, reaching for the door handle.</p><p>"Come oooon. I'm still starving and Merlin knows if I'll find the Great Hall on my own. This place is goddamn enormous," you motioned with your arms, emphasizing the point. "I could use some help figuring out which paintings to avoid, the best closets for hiding, most convenient alcoves for...privacy," you wiggled your eyebrows with a laugh. The boy lowered his wand in an attempt to mask the faint redness spreading across his face. It could've been from either anger or embarrassment, but you'd like to keep thinking it was the latter.</p><p>"Stop being ridiculous. Filch would easily catch a single student roaming about the castle at 3 in the morning. Let alone two." His words were harsh. But it seemed like a practiced sort of harshness, if that was possible. A defense mechanism of some sort. Loner, then? Or trauma? You'd like to find out. </p><p>"As if I know who, what was it, <i>Filch</i> is. Speaking of, what was your name again?" His face twisted into a scowl.</p><p>"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Rather presumptuous of you to think I'd be your personal tour guide when you don't know the first thing about me," he paused. "Nor I of you."</p><p>"Y/F/N Y/L/N," you extended a hand for him to shake. His eyes dropped to the hand but made no move to return the gesture. "Well, now that that's all sorted," you used the same hand to reach for the doorknob, quickly slipping past Malfoy, and right through the common room doors. You smiled to yourself, hearing a strangled sigh from behind.</p><p>You refrained from turning until the common room door creaked back shut, but when it did, you met Malfoy's gaze with a wild grin. He shook his head slightly, hiding his own, small smile. You slowed your pace just enough for the boy to catch up. His strides were longer than yours, but it seemed he was making an effort to keep them at a slower, measured pace. <i>Progress</i>. Perhaps he didn't despise you, not yet at least, you thought with a small smile. It would have to be a work-in-progress then. The two of you walked like that for a while, silently, side-by-side, before raising your head to shoot him a singular quirked brow. It seemed he understood your meaning.</p><p>He huffed. "If you're gonna get yourself killed, I might as well be there to witness it." A choked laugh escaped you. "What? Free entertainment."</p><p>You were surprised he could take a joke after all. "As long as it ends with me in the kitchen glutting down on some food, fine by me." You thought for a second. "Where were you headed to in the first place, Draco Malfoy? Tomorrow's our first day, shouldn't you be getting some rest?"</p><p>"None of your business is it," he quickened his pace slightly, making sure to guide you to the right. This castle was a maze, you had to admit. You silently prayed that you had paid enough attention to the path.</p><p>"No need to get your knickers in a twist," it was his turn to shoot you a look. "What? That's what you guys call them, right? Knickers?" When he slowed his pace to stare at you, incredulously, you raised your arms in truce. "Fine, underwear is off limits. Got it. Not that I was wondering what you looked like without them on anyway." You cracked a smile at the visible outline of Malfoy's shoulders bouncing slightly in laughter.</p><p>"Are all Americans this bold?" he sounded positively amazed.</p><p>"Depends on the person I'm sure." The laughter was short-lived as a croaking voice cut through the silent halls.</p><p>"STUDENTS ARE NOT PERMITTED OUTSIDE OF THEIR DORMS PAST CURFEW," the voice roared.</p><p>"Is that Filch then?" is all you managed to get out before grabbing at Malfoy's hand, tugging him in the opposite direction of the voice.</p><p>"Do you even know where you're going," his lips pressed against your ear haphazardly--more like smashed into, but you would excuse him if only because you had jerked him rather harshly.</p><p>"No clue," you breathed.</p><p>"This way." His breath was equally as ragged as he pulled you through the halls, dodging columns and randomly stationed suits of armor. Before long, he had tugged you into one of the many doors littering this particular section of the castle. Upon entering, however, you found yourself immediately smashed against a wall. This was not a classroom, but a utility closet. Malfoy slapped a hand across your mouth before you could comment on the less than ideal situation, cautiously closing the door behind him. He quickly extinguished the light from his wand, making it difficult to make out the motion he used to suggest you sit down. As the two of you settled against opposite walls, he removed his hand from your mouth.</p><p>"Was the hand really necessary?" you scowled. He returned a pointed look, as if to say, <i>I'll do it again if you don't shut the fuck up</i>.</p><p>It was silent for a long while after than. There was too little room to do much else other than cram your legs right up against Malfoy's, feet tucked against his side just as his were against yours. 30 minutes had passed before Malfoy finally nudged you with his foot to indicate that the coast was clear. He pressed a slender finger against his own lips, shushing as he motioned for you to stand. A fruitless endeavor, it seemed, as a shelf quite difficult to make out in the dark and just above Malfoy's head came crashing down in an enormous clatter. The boy immediately made to bend over in silent pain. It would've been hysterical if you weren't desperately hungry and dead tired from all the running.</p><p>Kneeling to join him on the ground, you slowly pried Malfoy's hand from his forehead. Pushing his hair out from his eyes with one hand and casting <i>lumos!</i> with the other, you were surprised to find a rather deep cut stretching clear across his forehead. Almost as surprising was just how soft the Malfoy boy's hair was. And fine, too. You resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, instead, redirecting your attention to the wound. Malfoy's eyes met yours with a silent question. <i>How does it look?</i></p><p>Bending an inch or two lower to whisper close to his ear, you assured him as best you could. "You're perfectly fine, Malfoy. I'll have you fixed up in just a second." You pulled back with a reassuring smile, but you weren't quick enough to miss his silent shudder. It really wasn't a difficult fix. Gently placing a thumb and forefinger to his chin, you directed his head slightly downward. You could feel him bristle at your touch. Positioning your wand just so, you cast a silent healing spell. It worked almost immediately, the skin stitching itself together with no visible remnant of the incident to be found. Almost as immediately, however, Malfoy's hands had shot up to inspect the wound. With little forethought, you pinned the boy's arms above his head, waiting a few breaths before releasing him.</p><p>"Sorry," you gave him an awkward smile, cheeks flaming. "Couldn't risk you reversing the charm."</p><p>"S'fine, but Merlin..." It sounded as if he was trying to piece the proper words together but ultimatley settled on, "why was it so itchy?" He scowled, rubbing the healed area for emphasis. Surprised, and with slight disgust, he removed his fingers to find them stained red. "I didn't feel a wound."</p><p>"No," you laughed. It was a relieved laugh. "Cut is gone. What isn't gone, however, is the blood. And you're making a goddamn mess." Using the sleeve of your sweatshirt, you carefully wiped away the excess blood. The way Malfoy's breath fanned across your face reminded you just how small the closet was before quickly pulling away.</p><p>"Thanks," he sputtered. With a sad smile, you grabbed his hand to help him stand back up. Maybe a little too forcefully, you realized, having accidentally launched him to a standing position which simultaneously pinned you to the far wall of the enclosed space. The two of you shared an awkward laugh.</p><p>"Come on then," Malfoy tugged you through the closet door and back into the cool air of the castle. "Back to the dungeons."</p><p>It was at that exact moment your stomach rumbled something fierce. "To the kitchens, then. We can call it even from there."</p><p>With that, a comfortable silence carried the two of you the whole way there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Day Boo-boos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hopefully the story will speed up after this chapter. I have no sense of pacing oops</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you woke up the next day, it was in your dorm room. Thank god. You probably were tired enough yesterday to collapse right back on that common room couch, but Malfoy's glare convinced you to slink the rest of the way up to your room, cookie and milk in hand. </p><p>You dressed in a rush, realizing that if you left early enough, you might find some time to navigate to your first class before it became a real problem. Retracing your steps to the Great Hall was easy enough, bustling through the castle corridors before finally reaching those huge double doors. Dodging the handful of students milling about the tables, you snatched a blueberry muffin from the nearest platter. A girl dressed in yellow and black scowled at you, but remained silent.</p><p>You frowned. Did it matter which House's table you got food from? And were you only allowed to sit with Slytherin, or could you table jump? Not that you had anyone to table jump for, anyway, but the question still stood. Merlin, was anyone going to you <i>anything</i> or were you going to be left to your own devices forever? </p><p>Miffed, you shoved the muffin into your mouth as you left the Great Hall. Might as well start the search for your first class, Potions it seemed, as long as you didn't know what was up with breakfast. </p><p>Walking at a brisk pace through the corridors, you felt a slight, discomforting breeze at your nape. Lifting a single hand to investigate, it seemed that you had had enough sense to put your green and silver tie on earlier, but not nearly enough to tie it. Let alone <i>how</i> to tie it. You groaned at the thought of having to ask someone else to do it up for you at some point today.</p><p>Continuing through the halls of Hogwarts, you fetched your schedule from your robes, examining which classes you would have to locate and in what order as you continued nibbling at the blueberry muffin. </p><p>There weren't many landmarks in this place, you thought. The castle was beautiful, of course, with its timeless architecture, sweeping arches, and intricate metalwork. But beautiful wasn't the issue. The issue was that everything was the same <i>sort</i> of beautiful where you couldn't tell one corner from the next, let alone what level you were on. The paintings might've made good indicators of locations if their glares didn't scare you away from looking.</p><p>You were tempted to ask the next person that you passed to point you in the right direction, but most everyone was buddied up. Groups of twos, threes, even fours roamed the halls, reminding you of just how much of your life had changed since Ilvermorny. Not that you entirely minded. There was something peaceful just as there was clawing about the loneliness. </p><p>It was at that thought that a couple walked past. By the looks of it, a lanky Gryffindor boy and a slightly shorter Ravenclaw girl. They were leaning into eachother, glancing between the other's outstretched parchments. You drifted a bit closer, hoping to catch a glance at their schedules from several paces behind. </p><p>The boy spoke first, an excited finger punching something at the top of the girl's parchment. "A free period! First! Luna, you're absolutely set. Imagine how easily you could do all your homework right before classes."</p><p>The girl, Luna, returned a pitiful look. "And it seems you have Potions with the Slytherins for your first class. I am rather sorry, Neville. I know you don't get along with Snape." Her voice was soft, if not a bit feathery. It matched her appearance rather well with those blonde locks and doll-like eyes. The clothes that peaked out from under her robe revealed an elaborate, frothy creation of quizzical smocks paired with crocheted leggings. Odd, but fitting.</p><p>"Ah, well," the boy, Neville, scratched the back of his neck. "Can't win them all. Let's just hope he goes easy on the first day." </p><p>With that they turned a corner, presumably heading to their first classes. You pulled out your own schedule, unsure of whether you could be so lucky. To your amazement, you weren't mistaken. <i>First hour Potions</i>. Without much forethought, you launched yourself down the same corner as the boy, hoping he might lead you in the right direction. </p><p>The regret was immediate. Not two steps around the corner, it seemed that you had entirely miscalculated the speed of their strides. The boy you had hoped to discreetly stalk to Potions was now doubled over, breathless as you had shoved your stack of textbooks right into his side. You staggered backwards, a hand clapped over your mouth in embarrassment and surprise. </p><p>"I am SO sorry. Merlin, are you okay??" you sputtered, frantic. Your face burned, but weirdly enough, he was laughing. Well, more of a vague guffaw of half-breaths and wheezes, but the familiar shake of his shoulders told you it could probably be a laugh. Hopefully. </p><p>"Perfectly well, thank you for asking," he said, still a bit breathless and perfectly polite. He straightened himself, adjusting his tie with both hands. "Maybe a little paper cut, but nothing that won't heal." Sure enough, there was a small cut on his pointer finger, probably from the parchment he had been examining earlier. Meeting his eyes for the first time, you noticed how they crinkled in the corners, dark lashes framing them kindly. And his smile, lopsided as it was, revealed a charming set of crooked teeth. Glancing to your right and left, you realized that the girl from earlier was gone. You weren't entirely sure of why or how.</p><p>"Hmm," you hummed, allowing yourself a small smile. "How about a trade then? I heal that finger of yours and you walk me to Potions." You mimicked the boy's easy pace as he took to walking.</p><p>"How did you know I was off to Potions?"</p><p>"Ah, well, you see, I overheard you talking to your girlfriend...and uh..." you let a finger slip to your collar, loosening it slightly. "I know jackshit about navigating this place and when I realized you were my opportunity to get where I needed, uh painlessly? I don't know if that's the right word anymore considering the circumstances..." you felt the heat of embarrassment burning all the way to the tips of your ears. And to your surprise, so did Neville's. </p><p>"First off," he stuttered a bit, "She's not my girlfriend." 

"Alright, then how about Potions?"

There was a small pause as Neville, seemingly considering your offer, twisted his face, tapped his chin, and finally turned to meet your eyes. "I suppose that's an even trade," he pointed down a hall to the left with the wounded appendage. "That-a-way!" </p><p>"Finger?"</p><p>"Yes, right away," he allowed you pull his hand closer as you continued walking. It seemed he was leading you back towards the dungeons. If Potions ended up being right outside the Slytherin common room, you might just die out of embarrassment. At that thought, you tripped over your feet slightly as  someone shoulder checked you from behind. They disappeared behind a corner before you could shout anything in return, but you could feel Neville bristle at your side. </p><p>Huffing, you focused your attentions back to the finger, drawing your wand from a pocket. With a quick flick of the wand, you muttered a quiet <i>episkey!</i>, watching as the skin on Neville's finger stitched itself together. </p><p>"All better," you beamed up at the Gryffindor boy. He held the finger up towards his eyes, examining it closely.</p><p>"Huh. For some reason I wasn't expecting you to actually heal it. I thought I'd get a kiss for my boo-boo and you'd send me on my way." </p><p>You guffawed, "And why would I do that?"</p><p>He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. "That's what my mother would do when I was younger. Said it made you stronger to feel the pain."</p><p>"Now that is certainly an <i>interesting</i> philosophy," you remarked, screwing up your nose. "And not to brag or anything, but I <i>am</i> a rather good healer. At least when it comes to the likes of your lot. Most of Ilvermorny's classes have at least some basis in Native American teachings. Herbology, Potions, Divination...most of what we learn is in service of healing, whether physical or spiritual." You sounded confident, repeating the facts you had read and reread on your Ilvermorny acceptance letter since your were 13, occasionally glancing back up at Neville to make sure he was still listening. You hoped that the words you often found comfort in didn't betray your fear. </p><p>From the textbooks you were required to buy alone, you weren't sure how much of your prior schooling would be able to help at Hogwarts. What if you were absolutely useless at your best subjects? What if their curriculum was more advanced? What if, what if, what if?</p><p>"Herbology, you said?" The boy cut through your thoughts, beaming. "Not to brag," you smiled at the way your words sounded in his mouth, "but I am <i>quite</i> the whizz in Herbology. Maybe we could teach each other something."</p><p>"I would like that a lot," you replied as you noticed his slowing pace. <i>This must be Potions</i>, you thought. And to your chagrin, it was rather close to the dungeons. </p><p>You enter the classroom side by side, following Neville to a table near the back and by a window. Settling into the chair next to him, you tried to catch his gaze, making sure it was okay that you had silently declared yourself his partner. The boy seemed to understand your meaning as he returned a single curt nod. His movements were significantly stiffer than just moments before. You wondered if it had anything to do with his dislike for the Potions professor who had yet to join you and your peers in the classroom. </p><p>As you began arranging the necessary textbooks and materials on your shared desk, you felt something light hit your shoulder. Glancing at the ground, you found a crumpled ball of parchment. Neville shot you a questioning look before swooping down to pick it up.</p><p>"Secret admirer?" he joked, handing you the ball.</p><p>As you uncrumpled the parchment, you found a short message: <i>You didn't kiss my boo-boo better :(.</i></p><p>You were pretty sure who had sent the note your way. You took your time writing back your own message, hoping to keep him in anticipation: <i>Shut up before I'm the one giving you a boo-boo.</i></p><p>The word "boo-boo" wasn't nearly as threatening as you would've liked, but you crumpled the parchment anyway, satisfied. Turning quickly, you caught sight of a shock of white hair only two or three tables back from your own. Silently, you floated the note over your shoulder to Malfoy. </p><p>Only a table or so away from the boy, the ball dropped to the floor prematurely. You hadn't expected to hear the Potions doors to crash open, followed by a swish of black coat. You couldn't care less whether Malfoy got the note anymore, frozen to your seat by the glare of the infamous Severus Snape. </p><p>This was going to be a great class.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Stupid Americans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Professor Snape was terrifying, to say the least. Well, maybe not terrifying, but just to look at him sent a shudder down your spine. You could respect the drama of the robe, sure, but that hair. Merlin, someone needed to introduce him to shampoo. What really got you, though, was the voice. There was something sinister to the deep monotone. You wondered for a second if anyone dared mock it.</p><p>You focused back in on his words. What they meant, rather than how they sounded. Finishing up his welcome back speech, you couldn't help but notice how his eyes continually returned to you. Finally, they caught.</p><p>"Miss Y/L/N, I see you made it into Slytherin. I suppose a congratulations is in order, but as your Head of House, I will not permit such sloppy appearances as yours," his gaze dipped to your undone tie. "I suggest you remedy the situation," he paused for effect, "<i>immediately</i>." </p><p>As he turned his back to the classroom, you tugged at Neville's sleeve. He took in your pleading eyes with a quiet chuckle,  fumbling through the motions of tying the tie for you with zero hesitation. </p><p><i>Over, up, through, over, up, through, over, up, through</i> you heard him mumble to himself. Or maybe it was for your own benefit, but the deep concentration on the boy's face told you otherwise. He murmured a quick apology as he fitted the tie to your neck, still a bit loose, explaining he had only ever done ties on himself. </p><p>Your thanks were short-lived as Snape's voice returned with booming effect. "That applies to all of you. Sloppy appearances and sloppy work will not be permitted under any circumstances," his eyes circled back to you, making sure you had done as you were told, no doubt. </p><p>"Open your books to page 84. Now that you are all in fourth year, I expect that the proper procedures of potion making will be followed without my assistance. I require one vial per couple by the end of class. Begin." </p><p>The room was dead silent but for the shuffling of papers and readying of materials. Seeing as you had already set up your cauldron and textbook, you motioned for Neville to fire the cauldron without words, not wanting to be the first to break the silence. Was this how all your classes were going to play out? And was no-talking one of these supposed "potion-making procedures" or was Snape's presence enough to intimidate the joy out of everyone? </p><p>Glancing down at the procedures for the potion, a sigh of relief escaped you. Sleeping Draught. Easy enough. You spent most of the summer downing the stuff after your Great Aunt's funeral. Or at least, until your Godfather discovered the 30 or so vials of the stuff you had hidden in a trunk under your bed. Even if he did end up confiscating them, that didn't mean the want went away. The feeling of the cool purple liquid down your throat was like watching the world through frosted glass with a blazing fire at your back. Warm, then cool, then nothing. A dreamless sleep.</p><p>You went to fetch the ingredients by heart. One by one, you gathered the stoppered bottles from the shelves: Flobberworm, lavender, Valerian sprigs, and the series of smaller shakers that contained the herbs necessary for Standard ingredient. Satisfied, you made your way back to Neville who had started a fire. You cast a quick dampening spell from behind him to keep the flames from licking the lip of the cauldron. You couldn't have the Sleeping Draught bubbling over from cooking too fast. </p><p>Spreading the ingredients in front of the both of you, you set to work, instructing Neville when necessary. You noted that he checked the textbook after nearly every step, whipping his head back and forth between the pages and whatever task he had occupied himself with. A little while later, you and Neville had found a steady working rhythm. The lavender sprigs had been crushed with the Standard ingredient and the Flobberworms were juiced and ready to go. It was then, a blobful of Flobbeworm guts at the ready, when you first recognized there was issue.</p><p>By step 13, stirring 7 times clockwise, the potion should have already started taking on its iconic purple hue. As you peered into the cauldron, it seemed yours and Neville's concoction was taking on a rather <i>green</i> appearance. The closest word you could find to describe the texture was gelatinous. You glanced at Neville with an uncertain look, peering past him to the other students' cauldrons in confirmation of your fear.</p><p>"This can't be right," you gave the cauldron a jiggle. You winced at the way Neville's face fell. </p><p>"What do you mean?" He turned a ghastly shade of white, rapidly flipping between pages of <i>The Book of Potions</i> to search for a description of the end product's appearance.</p><p>"It should be purple and this is...well."</p><p>"B-but we did everything right! Three sprigs lavender, two measures Standard ingredient, crush in mortar, two blobs of Flobberworm mucus, two more measures of Standard ingredient--" </p><p>"And how, Miss Y/L/N..." Snape's voice cut through Neville's frantic recitations. He strode to the opposite end of the table to get a better look at the disaster potion, "did you measure your Standard ingredient?" It was less of a question and more of an accusation.</p><p>You lifted the copper measuring cups from where you had previously stored them on top of your satchel. You winced as Snape snatched them from your grasp, a scowl morphing his features as he turned them over in his hands. </p><p>"Miss Y/L/N, can you identify the issue with this method of measurement?" You remained silent, noticing how nearly every student turned to face the commotion. "No? So it seems Americans are more dull than I could have ever imagined. These are measuring <i>cups</i>. Perhaps that's "accurate enough" in the colonies, but the <i>proper</i> way to measure ingredients is in <i>grams</i>. Can you tell me how many grams are in a standard measure?" </p><p>You could see now why Neville was trembling at the thought of first hour Potions, but all the same, there was something terribly funny about the situation. A greasy-haired troll waving about your late-mother's antique copper measuring cups, the PYREX label biting through the air like some type of anti-advertisement. Not to mention your gelatinous potion was the perfect shade of <i>snot</i>. You hoped the quiver of your lip came off as fear rather than the lame attempt it was at biting back a cackle.</p><p>To answer Snape's question...well you couldn't. You hoped a shrug of your shoulders would suffice, hoping to avoid talking altogether, lest you reveal your fucked up sense of humor and get yourself in more trouble. </p><p>Not altogether satisfied, Snape shifted his attention to Neville: "And you Mr. Longbottom? Since you allowed this mistake to occur after three years under my tutelage?" There was a good chance Neville <i>did</i> know the answer, but it seemed his fear of the Professor made him little more than mute as his face paled impossibly whiter.</p><p>"100 grams, Professor," another voice cut through the tension of the argument. You laughed to see it was Malfoy, his features drawing together with a smirk. Glancing at the floor, you could just make out where the crumpled note from before had stalled under another classmate's feet. With the heat of Snape's attention off of you, you cast a quiet breeze at the note, rolling it just enough to brush against Malfoy's leather shoes. If he felt anything, he didn't make it known.</p><p>"Correct, Malfoy. That will be ten points to Slytherin," then, fixing his eyes on Neville, "and ten from Gryffindor." A series of groans filled the room. You were disheartened for moment before realizing that you were, in fact, a Slytherin. And even stranger, being rewarded for a mess that was all your own? A second away from speaking your confusion, you caught Malfoy's eyes. They were enough to keep you quiet. For now at least. </p><p>"As for you, Miss Y/L/N, I'd advise that you get yourself to Diagon Ally to purchase the proper materials for class. For now you will have share with--" he paused, scanning the room once more. "Malfoy and Neville, I'll have you switch tables. Yes, that will be significantly better." </p><p>Luckily, you weren't the one that had to do any moving. Frozen to your chair, you watched as Neville packed his materials and stood to move to the far table. You reached up to give his shoulder a quick squeeze, hoping he would understand the silent apology in your eyes. He turned to give you a sad smile before passing Malfoy on his way back.</p><p>Malfoy was an entirely different story. Saddling up to your table, he let his materials drop to the floor without much care. He dipped forward to see the state of your potion before laughing quietly. You didn't know what to make of your new partner. He was cocky, to say the least, but at least he helped you dispose of the failed Sleeping Draught without too many jabs. </p><p>It was weird, seeing him in the full light of day. You recognized now how the faint glow of his wand at night had emphasized the sharpness of his features, carving them with the darkness where the light couldn't reach. He was softer now, the light of the window hitting him just so. And his eyebrows were expressive, emphasized by the fact they were several shades darker than that silvery white hair on his head and lashes. It was fascinating, the way it was blond all the way down to the root. You wondered what type of pureblood inbreeding could result in that, barking out a laugh at the very thought.</p><p>"What's got you giggling to yourself," Malfoy nudged you with a cocky grin. </p><p>Knowing how easily you could wipe that smile from his face with the truth, you settled for, "I'll save it for later." </p><p>He quirked a single brow before settling his eyes on your tie. "Now <i>that</i> sure is something. How are you supposed to learn how to tie a tie with that as your example. Come here," he motioned for you to lean closer with a single finger. You humored him, loosening your tie slightly as you did so.</p><p>He flipped your collar back up, surprisingly gentle. He unraveled Neville's handy work before measuring the lengths of the tail ends himself. His brows drew together, intent on the task in front of him. Talking you through the steps, you watched his hands guide the fabric from one end to the other until, finally, it resembled the boy's own tie. He leaned in, tightening the fabric to your throat before allowing his hands to drop back down to the table, drumming a quiet rhythm on the wooden surface. </p><p>You were just about to thank him before Snape interrupted your thoughts. "We have five minutes before the end of class. For those of you with successful potions, please set your vials at the edge of your table for collection. Malfoy and Y/L/N, please see me after class." With that, the room shuffled back to life as students frantically packed away their materials and stoppered up their vials. </p><p>You followed suit. When your peers began filtering out, you caught Draco's eye before throwing your satchel over a shoulder and heading to Snape's desk side-by-side. The Professor didn't acknowledge your presence for a good two minutes before clearing his throat with a flourish.</p><p>"I want to make this clear. I do not accept poor marks from <i>my</i> House."</p><p>"I really do apologize, Professor. I didn't--"</p><p>"That is enough," he silenced you with a hand. "Mr. Malfoy, since you were gracious enough to save Miss Y/L/N from embarrassment earlier, I will be assigning you to tutor her until further notice. The two of you will set your own times for meeting, and I expect that you will find the Potion's classroom to your liking. As <i>thanks</i>," he spit the word out as if he couldn't imagine being thankful for such a ridiculous situation, "I will be awarding Slytherin 10 points per completed session. If there is remarkable improvement, I will consider other rewards."</p><p>You could see Malfoy itching to interrupt, but he schooled his emotions into a nearly expressionless façade. You were decidedly <i>not</i> looking forward to the conversation the two of you would share once stepping outside of this classroom.</p><p>"You are dismissed," Snape concluded, turning back to whatever he had been doing earlier.</p><p>The second you turned into the corridor, Malfoy spoke: "How does 19:00 on Thursdays and Fridays work for you? I have Quidditch most days, so I'm not entirely flexible."</p><p>You couldn't tell from his tone if he was upset or excited, so you chose to test the waters with a joke instead. "Not flexible, are we? I  can help you with that," you replied with a wink.</p><p>He didn't look nearly as amused as you were, instead, waiting for an answer.</p><p>"Yes, that works. And thank you."</p><p>"No need to thank me. Not exactly like I volunteered."</p><p>Your smile faltered slightly. "I meant for the tie." You left it at that before splitting off to your next class. Transfiguration. <i>Positively exciting</i>. </p><p>You made it to the class with relative ease, having overheard another Slytherin groaning over having to deal with McGonagall so early in the morning. You asked that they point you in the right direction to the class, and graciously, they volunteered to walk you the whole way.</p><p>"Thank you, uh--" you said, pausing at the entrance of the classroom.</p><p>"Blaise Zabini," he smiled. "Off to class with me. Have fun with McGonagall." With that, he took off in the opposite direction.</p><p>Wordlessly settling in next to a Hufflepuff girl who had yet to find a partner, you moved to unpack your bag for Transfiguration. At the very top, you found a curious, crumpled ball of parchment. With a smile, you removed it from the bag.</p><p>Reading from top to bottom, you could easily distinguish between the changes in lettering:</p><p>
  <i>You didn't kiss my boo-boo better :(.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Shut up before I'm the one giving you a boo-boo</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Make me.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So like...I don't know wtf an actual "measure" is supposed to mean in the HP Universe, but might as well turn it into the good ole colonies vs colonizer debate. Can you tell I'm a bitter American?</p><p>P.S. Hopefully I'll stop hinting at this mysterious backstory at some point, but this is what you get for now.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. House Traitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the day went as smoothly as you could have hoped. Navigating between classes remained an issue, but once you learned which portraits to sweet-talk and which to harass, it was smooth sailing from there. If anything, the paintings seemed a bit eager for conversation, even if they scowled their way through the entirety of it. Who would've thought paintings could be such egotistical creatures.</p><p>Besides Neville, you weren't sure if you had succeeded in making any new friends. That wouldn't bother you too much if it weren't for the fact you didn't know who you would be sitting with at dinner, nor if you could sit with Neville if need be. The Hufflepuff girl in Transfiguration was nice enough, but the Slytherin girl, Pansy Parkinson, you had sat with during Divination couldn't stop scowling at you from across your steaming mugs of tea. </p><p>You couldn't understand for the life of you why. She was gorgeous, with her slick black hair and smooth brown skin. If she didn't already hate your guts, you might have considered asking her out to Hogsmeade. You could use more Slytherin friends...or girlfriends.</p><p>Bending down to pack your bags at the end of class, you were startled to find her positioning herself into view. Her eyebrows drew together, a fierce expression on her face as she spoke: "Stay away from Draco." With that, she picked up the rolled mat at her feet, deposited it on top of the stack of student rugs, finally saddling up next to Malfoy to take the stairs together. You hadn't even noticed that Malfoy was in the class, but you suppose it clarified the girls unwarranted hatred of you. You couldn't be sure what their relationship was, but by the way Pansy was simpering at his arm, you could piece it together. </p><p>Removing your schedule with a sigh, you nearly cried out in shock. LUNCHEON it read in bold letters. Why in the world had you been worrying about dinner when you could've been worrying about lunch this entire time. You had to ration the anxiety if you wanted to make it through today.</p><p>Making your way towards the Great Hall, you resolved to do the same thing as breakfast. Walk in, grab an apple or something, walk out, figure out the rest of your classes for the day. <i>Stick to the plan</i>, you repeated it like a prayer, finally arriving at the great double doors of the dinning hall. One final sigh and you were pushing your way through the herd of students and scanning your eyes over the tables. Quickly locating the Slytherins, you made your way to a table adorned in various pyramids of fruit. Happily grappling for an apple, you finally made your way back towards the doors. A half-smile stretched across your face as you polished the apple with a sleeve.</p><p>To your surprise, a voice stopped you halfway to the doors. "Y/L/N!" You turned around, searching for the voice. It was Malfoy, and to his right, the Parkinson girl with a single arm slung over his shoulders.  There were four other boys sitting in their general area, but you could only recognize Blaise Zabini from earlier. He might've just winked at you, but you couldn't be sure, as he turned back to his mashed potatoes without a word. Silently, you wondered whether he was the one to stick Malfoy's note back in your pack when he was leading you to Transfig.</p><p>"Why don't you come eat with us?" Malfoy suggested. You didn't trust the small smirk on his face, and you sure as hell didn't trust the open scowl Pansy was fixing on you. You took a few steps towards them before pausing.</p><p>"You know what, I think I'll be okay," you said, showing off the apple, polished to a shine. Before he could protest, you were already retracing your steps to the exit, drifting towards the opposite side of the hall to avoid any other attempts at securing your company. </p><p>That plan backfired just as well, as you felt someone grab at your robe sleeve as you walked passed. A second away from cursing the person out, you met Neville's smiling blue eyes. The anger immediately dissolved, but you couldn't quiet a small annoyance at the inconvenience. </p><p>"Hey!" he said.</p><p>"Hey." you replied</p><p>"No need to get all soggy, I see you're determined to leave. I just wanted to let you know you're welcome to sit with me and my friends at dinner," you imagined that your face was rather blank with shock, as he stuttered out, "i-if you want, of course."</p><p>"Sorry, no, of course, I was just surprised was all," your small smile reassured the Gryffindor boy. Moving your gaze to the handful of students Neville was sitting with, you gave them a small wave. There was the blonde girl from before, Luna, but you didn't recognize any of the other faces. </p><p>A boy with crooked glasses perched on a thin nose, a girl with big brown hair and eyes, and another boy, a face full of freckles, sat across from Neville, whispering amongst themselves. They didn't seem to notice you immediately, but the girl lifted her head after a while, returning your wave with a polite smile. There were two other boys to Neville's left and right. They introduced themselves as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan respectively, before graciously letting you go off on your own.  </p><p>The rest of the day went without incident. You found your last two classes with ease, and you hadn't created any other enemies in the meantime. You really were gonna have to ask that Pansy girl what her deal with Malfoy was before your first tutoring session in two days. You didn't want to accidentally start anything with her. And secretly, you were hoping you might win her friendship after all. </p><p>Dinner was fast approaching. You stopped by your dorm beforehand to drop off your school materials and refresh your hair. You had a habit of playing with it out of anxiety, the mirror reminded you. You wish you had roommates to joke around with like you did at Ilvermorny. You could just <i>hear</i> Delia making fun of you for befriending the paintings before Pansy Parkinson. Or Sienna teasing you for having only eaten a muffin and apple all day. Or Rosemary, tutting for you to hurry off to dinner and glut on all the pies before she could get to them first. If only. Upon arriving at Hogwarts yesterday, McGonagall had informed you that roommates had already been selected the year prior. She congratulated you on your private dorm, even though your face indicated disappointment with the arrangement.</p><p>You resolved to follow imaginary-Rosemary's advice, making your way down to the Great Hall. Already familiar with the path, you took the cobblestone with a quick pace. Before long, you were at the doors of the dining hall, watching as the other students rushed into the bubble of noise and chatter without abandon. One final, deep breath, and you made your way in. </p><p>Immediately heading to the right of the hall, you were relieved to see that Neville and his friends were in the same spot as before, if a bit rearranged. You saw the girl from earlier point at you, the one with the big brown hair, simultaneously turning to speak something to Neville. The boy followed her finger, turning to greet you with a big smile.  You couldn't refrain from your own, nervous grin. Quickly, you moved to settle in next to the small group. </p><p>"Hello, Neville's friends," you groaned at your own dumb greeting as you took the open seat to Neville's right. To your delight, they laughed. As you occupied yourself with fixing a plate with green beans, sweet potatoes, some steak, and two dinner rolls, you giggled at each of their personal greetings.</p><p>"Hello there. I'm Hermione. Pleased to meet you!"</p><p>"Hi, Y/N! I'm Harr-" </p><p>"He's the great and powerful Chosen One, Harry Potter. You might have heard of him back in America. I would be surprised, anyway, if you hadn't," the ginger boy interrupted Harry's introduction. A silence fell over the group, the boy obliviously chowing down on a turkey leg. When he did finally look up, it was with wide eyes and a laugh. "Sorry I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm Ron, by the way," he said, returning to his food. You exchanged looks with the Hermione girl, silent laughter between the two of you.</p><p>Dean and Seamus, having introduced themselves at lunch, merely smiled their welcomes, returning back to their own conversation. You resolved to do the same, fully indulging in food for the first time that day. You fell into easy conversation with Neville, asking him about his day, any other incidents with teachers, laughing as he described how the scarf folded in his lap was nearly stolen by owls when he had gone up to visit his own earlier. When you asked him why he needed a scarf in the early September heat, he explained that the beating of the birds' wings made it rather windy.</p><p>"Um, Y/N," Hermione interrupted.</p><p>"Yeah, what's up?"</p><p>"I might be imagining things, but the Slytherin table has been staring you down for at least twenty minutes. No! No don't turn around. It'll be more suspicious," she warned.</p><p>"What reason do they have to be staring," you wondered aloud. Was it the lunch rejection? Or could it be that you weren't supposed to sit with other tables? Some other, unspeakable crime?</p><p>"Welll..." Ron drew out the word. "Slytherin and Gryffindor have had a rivalry for as long as this school has existed. I'm sure they're just annoyed that you realized we're better than they'll ever be," he finished with a smirk. You couldn't stop your laughter.</p><p>"That's really it? Well in that case," you reached for the scarf in Neville's lap, slowly wrapping it around your neck in a way that concealed your Slytherin tie, "Let the rivalry continue!" you cheered. Gryffindors all up and down the table shared in the cheer whether having the context for the situation or not, simply happy for an excuse to make fun of the Slytherins. The small group around you shared in a wild smile, finally joining the cheer. For the first time that day, you felt entirely at home. </p><p>When you had all finished up with your meals, you stacked the plates with quiet chatter, finally departing at the doors of the Great Hall to return to your separate common rooms. Truly, you were the only one heading down to the dungeons, but it didn't feel like you were alone anymore.</p><p>Saying your quiet goodbyes to some of the kinder portraits from earlier, you were suddenly interrupted. </p><p>"You know being a House Traitor isn't really helping with the whole dumb American look." You turned to find the familiar blond.</p><p>"Come on, Malfoy. I was just having a bit of fun," you self-consciously reached down to adjust your green and silver tie, realizing you were still wearing Neville's scarf. Malfoy scoffed as you slowly unwound it from around your neck. </p><p>"Neville Longbottom of all people. That's desperate," his words were bitter. You wondered if his lunch invite was more than just a nicety. Maybe he thought your rejection of the invitation was a rejection of his friendship. That is, if he wanted your friendship. You couldn't be too sure.</p><p>"Come on now," you said, reaching for the fabric of his tie playfully. The corridor was eerily silent. Most students were long gone, preparing for bed in their dorms, or lounging in their common rooms. You tightened your grasp on the tie, forcing Malfoy to hunch down slightly. </p><p>Your faces were closer than you had anticipated, his nose a breath away from yours. In the darkness of the corridor, you were reminded of the utility closet. Perhaps he was experiencing the same memory as you watched Malfoy's eyes soften slightly. You took the opportunity to quickly wrangle the Gryffindor scarf around his neck. He flinched backwards at your sudden movement, but your hold on both his tie and the scarf kept him relatively still. Warily, he watched as you continued wrapping the scarf around his neck, once, twice, then adjusting the length of the tail ends to fall over his shoulders just so. You pat his chest once, stepping back to inspect your handiwork.</p><p>"What was all that about?"</p><p>"It's too bad, this rivalry with Gryffindor. I like you in red," you pulled back, giving him a quick once-over. "Matches your face." He sputtered something unintelligible.</p><p>With that, you left him in the corridor, making your way back to the dungeons.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The first tutoring session will be next chapter, don't worry!! I wasn't expecting to write so much Neville into this, but he's such a cutie, how could I not. As for the bisexual implications with Pansy...you're gonna be a flirt in this story, better get used to it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Concussions and Conspiracies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wasn't expecting this to be a daily thing for me, but here we are again...I hope yall are liking it at least.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wednesday was unremarkable overall. It very much resembled Monday in that you had nearly all the same classes, but this time, you had friends as well.</p><p>Thursday <i>however</i>. Today was Thursday and that meant you had your first tutoring session with one Draco Malfoy.</p><p>You were a bit worried as to how it might play out. You were still unsure of his attitude towards the arrangement, and you hadn't had Potions this morning to ask. Was it better or worst that you wouldn't be seeing him until, presumably, 7 pm? A coward would say better, but luckily, you weren't opposed to cowardice. </p><p>The rest of your day played out as follows:</p><p>9 AM - <i>Care of Magical Creatures</i>: You nearly walked out with a Niffler smuggled down your shirt. Hagrid insisted it was not proper to hide creatures in your bosom. </p><p>10 AM - <i>Herbology</i>: Luna talked your ear off about the Wrackspurts in the Flutterby bushes.</p><p>12 PM - <i>Luncheon</i>: Ron mixed up his gravy and milk. You bet Ron he would throw up after drinking it. He bet that he wouldn't. You were two galleons richer. </p><p>1 PM - <i>Free period</i>: You finished up an essay for Transfiguration in the library.</p><p>2 PM - <i>Defense against the Dark Arts</i>: You tortured a spider. You weren't that sorry. Fuck spiders.</p><p>Despite finishing the school day with a solid five hours until your first tutoring session, you couldn't remember a single thing you did in that time. All you could remember was now. Standing outside of the Potions classroom. At 7 pm. You weren't sure whether to wait for Malfoy inside, check if he was already there, or just turn back altogether. You were hyperaware of the fact your hair was sticking to the nape of your neck with anxious sweat. Moving to swat away the stray strands, you were startled as someone placed a hand at your back. With horror, you turned to find Draco staring you down, a small smirk adorning his face. </p><p>"Come on, then," he guided you into the classroom. You followed meekly, depositing your materials on the table closest to the ingredient pantry. You occupied yourself with fumbling for some imaginary object in your bag, unsure of how exactly Malfoy wanted to start.</p><p>"Soooo," you directed to the back of his head. Malfoy had also been searching through his bag.</p><p>"Sooo," he repeated, continuing his search.</p><p>"How exactly? Uh, what are we...How are we gonna go about this? It's not like you know what I do or don't know. If anything, the only reason we're in this mess is due to a small misunderstanding."</p><p>He hummed, considering your words. "I wouldn't exactly call it a <i>small</i> misunderstanding. You did turn a first year review potion green and," he paused, searching for the word, "<i>jiggly</i>." You sighed, burying your ever reddening face into your hands. </p><p>"Don't remind me," you groaned, but a thought struck you. Peeking a single eye through your pointer and ring fingers, you asked, "Did you say first year potion?"</p><p>"Yes. The Sleeping Draught is a first year potion." Noting your confusion, "Is it not the same for Ilvermorny?"</p><p>"Merlin, no. If I remember correctly, the Sleeping Draught is actually saved for the fifth years. We're taught not to use it apart from those rare circumstances where keeping a patient conscious is more harmful than asleep."</p><p>"Patient?" He quirked a brow.</p><p>"Well, yes. Most of our potion knowledge is meant to teach different healing techniques. In fact, our nurse taught Potions," you said rather proudly. </p><p>Draco choked out a laugh. Incredulously, "But Potions has infinitely more useful purposes than <i>healing</i>," he spat the word, as if it were ridiculous. </p><p>"Hey, you can't judge! Let me tell you, the amount of people I've had to minorly heal in the past three days is <i>insane</i>," you fixed a look at Draco. He seemed to catch your implication. "I swear, you guys are impressed, genuinely IMPRESSED by first year healing charms. And when they're silent? Absolutely wild the reactions I've gotten. As if it were a party trick!"</p><p>"But you see, that's what Madame Pomfrey is for."</p><p>"And when you graduate? What, broken noses don't exist passed the age of 20?" You waited for a reply. There was none. You nudged his shoulder playfully, a triumphant grin decorating your face. "Alright enough arguing. How about you review the curricular theme for this year and which potions are for which units."</p><p>Graciously, he obeyed. Heaving the potions textbook up onto the table and slamming it down between the two of you, he began leafing through the pages. Finally settling on a page with a heading which read <i>Year Four: Antidotes</i>, you watched as the boy used a single finger to skim the table of contents. Silently, you read the headings to yourself: </p><p>
  <i>117...Calming Draught</i>
</p><p>
  <i>138...Shrinking Solution</i>
</p><p>
  <i>142...Skele-Gro</i>
</p><p>
  <i>161...Pepperup potion</i>
</p><p>You nearly cackled in delight. </p><p>"So the 'curricular theme' for fourth year, as you put it, is Antidotes. Does any of this sound familiar to you?" He motioned to some of the main concepts and potions.</p><p>A smile crept onto your face. You fixed your gaze on Malfoy, and then the book, and back to Malfoy again, an eager sort of joy building in your chest. "Sound familiar?" your voice wavered with delight. "Malfoy--you know what, just one second. It might be better to show you."</p><p>Retrieving your wand from a robe pocket, you took a moment to solidify your grasp on its wooden handle. You had only attempted the spell a handful of times, but you thought it might be worth a try. For the drama, of course. With an outstretched arm, you whipped your wand into a clear arch, following the movement with a forceful <i>Accio Ilvermorny's  Book of Potions!</i></p><p>Malfoy watched you with interest. Several seconds passed in silence before, miraculously, your outdated, Ilvermorny edition of <i>The Book of Potions<i> came flying through the air. For a moment, you beamed as the book circled the air above you, flapping its pages like wings as it propelled itself further. That joy quickly gave way to terror as you watched the tome spasm for a moment. It seemed the spell was wearing off.</i></i></p><p> <i>"Duck!"</i> You shouted, but it was too late. Hovering a foot above the boy's head, the book limpened, falling lifelessly towards the boy's head with a hollow  <i>thunk.</i></p><p> "<i>Fuck!</i>" The boy brought a hand to his head, inspecting the damage. </p><p>"I'm so sorry! That wasn't supposed to happen. But I won't lie," you choked out a laugh, "it does have a rather ironic effect." The boy eyed you with a scowl.</p><p>"No seriously! Look," you snatched the book from the floor, slamming it on top of the Hogwarts edition of the very same textbook. You flipped through the pages with drama, hoping to prolong the mystery of your amusement. Tragically, the page you sought came all too soon as you pointed a stern finger at the heading of page 8. It read: <i>First Grade: Antidotes</i>. Draco deflated.</p><p>"You're joking."</p><p>"Am not! In fact, I could cook up some Pepperup potion this very moment for that head of yours. I really am sorry about that, by the way." For the second time this week, you fought the urge to ruffle his hair.</p><p>"First year, though? Really? I can't imagine Madame Pomfrey's Skele-gro in the hands of grubby 13-year-olds. That's horrible."</p><p>You didn't disagree. "Yes, sometimes it is. My friend Delia had her punch spiked with the stuff in second grade, er--second year. She grew a whole HORN." Draco gasped. "It was wicked."</p><p>Malfoy stiffened for a moment, attempting to process this new information. Just as suddenly, he began packing up his bag.</p><p>"Hey, wait. What are you doing?"</p><p>He shot you a look. "It seems my work here is done," he grumbled. You groaned. Why did he have to have such a fragile ego? You gave his shoulder a nudge, hoping to catch his full attention.</p><p>"Did you forget the oh so gracious rewards Snape offered us for doing this shit? Bro, ten points to Slytherin per session! You're really about to give that all up?" Your tone was disbelieving.</p><p>One, don't call me <i>bro</i>," he paused, shooting you a side-long glance. "And two, don't insult me. I remember the conditions of the arrangement, but they no longer apply. What do you suggest we do? Dick around for 2 hours a week doing nothing?"</p><p>"Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting. Aren't you supposed to be a Slytherin," Draco slowed his packing. "...bro?" He shot you a pointed look. "Okay sorry, I couldn't help myself."</p><p>"I don't know. What if Snape finds out--"</p><p>You interrupted him. "Look. How about I brew that Pepperup potion I was talking about while you think about it?" His mouth opened for a moment, an argument burning in his eyes, but he seemed to reconsider. Successfully having stalled his protests, you bustled off to gather ingredients, a small smile on your face.</p><p>Though you could easily perform the steps of Pepperup from memory, you asked that Malfoy turn to page 21 and read them aloud for you. You supposed the tutoring sessions didn't have to benefit you alone. If anything, he might as well learn something as long as you wouldn't be.</p><p>A careful silence fell over the two of you as you worked. Coming to the final step, five "sturdy" stirs about the cauldron, Draco finally piped up.</p><p>"Fine," the word was full of resignation.</p><p>"Fine?"</p><p>"Fine. We can continue the tutoring sessions. I'm sure there are still gaps in your potions knowledge from prior years that you'll need some catching up on. And of course, there's still theory you'll need to learn. And practical procedure like <i>measures</i>," he smirked. "And once we've exhausted all of those options...we'll wait out the hour in the Potions room. For appearances."</p><p>As you finished your final stir, you lifted your eyes to meet his. Draco was sincere. If not a bit cocky, but you could work with cocky.</p><p>"I'm glad you finally came around to the idea. I was really starting to question your Slytherin merits." You brought your focus back to the potion, reminded of one of your first Potions lessons at Ilvermorny: <i>Never administer medicine to a child with a cup. You cannot trust them to drink it all, which can be more harmful than not drinking any in the first place. Instead, take a syringe like so, and squeeze the desired amount directly into their mouths</i>.</p><p>You casually suctioned up a single dose of the brilliantly red Pepperup potion into a nearby syringe. With an evil grin, you turned to Malfoy. "Now, open up!" You watched as he stilled in his seat. You explained a bit further: "Pepperup is traditionally used for colds, so upon taking the potion, you'll feel a bit warm. From there, a pressure will build up in your skull slightly. That's what will help the concussion. After that, the excess pressure will escape through your ears in the form of steam."</p><p>"You know what, I'm actually feeling significantly better, how about we put the syringe down and--" you lunged for the boy. He jumped to his feet with amazing speed. He was halfway across the classroom in mere seconds, shielding himself behind a far table. </p><p>"You could have a bruised skull! It's better to be safe than sorry. Merlin, just come here already!"</p><p>"No! Stay back, wench!" He crawled under a desk to escape your latest attempt at cornering him. This went on for several minutes before you finally gave up. You slowed your movements, positively spent. There was no catching him. Quidditch may not make him flexible, but it sure did give him some superb breath support. You'd have to ask him if he played any wind instruments sometime. Or if he'd like to learn. It would be a waste otherwise. Returning to your cauldron, you resolved to stopper up the rest of the potion in small vials as Malfoy watched you from afar, still untrusting. </p><p>You sighed, calling over your shoulder: "I don't care if you're concussed anymore. If anything, with that little performance, I'm sure of it. But I could use some extra hands to carry these to Madame Pomfrey. I'm sure she could always use more." The boy crept back to the shared table. Spotting the emptied syringe, his shoulders finally relaxed.</p><p>"Let's clean the rest of this up before we go to the hospital wing. Don't want Snape crucifying us in the morning." You agreed. After a quick tidying, Malfoy held true to his word, helping carry and levitate 20 or so vials of the Pepperup potion to Madame Pomfrey to both her confusion and aggressive appreciation. She praised the masterful brewing, noting how the batch was the perfect shade of vermilion. You elbowed Malfoy in the ribs before he could take credit for your potion, thanking Madame Pomfrey with a smug grin.</p><p>It was nearly curfew by the time Madame Pomfrey finally let the two of you go with a final, emphatic thank you. You and Malfoy silently agreed to half-walk, half-jog the rest of the way back to the dungeons, giving you just enough time to slip through the common room doors before Filch would be on the hunt.</p><p>Heading to your respective staircases, Malfoy paused his ascent. "Same time tomorrow?"</p><p>"See you then," you said with a curt nod. Internally smiling, but physically dead, you collapsed into bed not bothering to change into pajamas for that night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I should probably mention that I aged up the grade levels. First year starts at 13, so everyone in fourth year is currently 16. I really only set this in fourth year to keep the potions curriculum as close to canon as possible (and I wanted to start the story a little more light-hearted than where it'll end up with sixth year)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Boys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This time, you didn't hesitate at the door of the Potions classroom, heading straight in once the clock struck 7. Malfoy had yet to appear, but you knew that would be the case. During Potions that very morning (you had yet to switch back partners after that horrific first day, not wanting to test the waters with Snape quite yet), Malfoy had informed you that Quidditch practice might be running over today with try-outs this afternoon. You quietly thanked him for the advanced notice, returning to the shared cauldron without much thought. Reconsidering your silence on the topic after a few awkward stirs, you asked if the try-outs would be two days long, as they usually were at Ilvermonry, and if so, what time might they be tomorrow so you could watch? His eyebrows shot up for a moment, resolving into a smug grin.</p><p><i>Can't get enough of me can you?</i> </p><p>
  <i>Sure, keep on telling yourself that.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Nine in the morning, if you must know.</i>
</p><p>You were startled out of the memory, the creak of the Potions classroom door cutting through the silence. You lifted your head to spot Malfoy, strutting in, as usual. What was decidedly <i>unusual</i>, however, was his attire. His impeccably tailored robes and pressed silk tie were substituted for a long-sleeved sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. You would have mentioned the emerald green flying robes and various knee, shin, and forearm pads, but it seemed Malfoy was determined to strip off each of the aforementioned items with every step he took, already having deposited his gloves by the entrance. You felt the need to avert your eyes, choosing to rifle through your bag for a few moments as Draco finished whatever it was he was doing. </p><p>There was nothing indecent about the boy, as far as you could tell, but something about the way his hair was slicked with sweat, curling at the nape of his neck, face red and panting... His eyes, too, had a peculiar sheen to them that you had yet to observe. More blue than gray today, but the same steely quality. Your own eyes grew wider as you saw him reach for the hem of the sweatshirt.</p><p>"Howaboutwekeepthatonactually?" you blurted. The boy's face, once still with preoccupation, turned to you in alarm before slacking with recognition. </p><p>"Huh. Didn't see you there," he replied, hand still on hem. With one swift motion, he drew the fabric up and over his head before you could react. A sigh of relief (or maybe it was disappointment, you weren't too sure) escaped you upon seeing that he had a thin white t-shirt on underneath. Not that it was much better, with the way patches of the fabric were turning translucent with sweat. "Sorry. Hot in here," he said, raking a hand through his hair.</p><p>"It's fine. Just--sit down," you motioned to the chair at your left, keeping your eyes on the table. Much like yesterday, but for an entirely different reason, you were at a loss for words. For one, you were back to square one when it came to tutoring, still unsure of how Malfoy wanted to proceed having decided last session that he didn't want to give up on the possibility just yet. And then there was...him. Sweaty and red faced and--Merlin you were gonna have to pull yourself together. </p><p>"You alright over there? Seem a bit preoccupied," you asked, watching as his eyes darted about the room.</p><p>"Merlin, I completely forgot my schoolbag in the locker room," another rake of that white-blond hair. "I could run over there right now and grab it real quick. I promise it will only take a second--" he was already making his way towards the door.</p><p>"Wait! Can't you just <i>Accio</i> is over?" You tone was more urgent than you had intended. Something about waiting in the dead silence of the room, left to replay memories of the scenario that had been unfolding prior (but with different, possibly naughtier endings) somehow seemed more distressing than the alternative. Malfoy paused, hand on the doorknob. You watched as he considered before letting out a breathy laugh.</p><p>"Are you joking! After last time with the Potions textbook? I'm starting to think you've a death wish for me."</p><p>"Fine," you huffed, making your way over to the boy, "but I'm coming with you! It's cold in here, and I don't want you running through the halls like a madman and getting us in trouble for nothing." Either way, there wouldn't be much work getting done, so you supposed this might as well be the more interesting alternative. And it was harder to think about <i>that</i> when he was a living breathing human by your side, rather than a memory for your eager manipulation. Malfoy didn't question it either, pushing the door with a single huff before holding it open for you to pass under his arm. Ducking, you scurried out into the hallway. </p><p>You walked side-by-side for a while. Malfoy seemed content with the silence, humming to himself occasionally, but you were itching to distract your dirty mind. "How were the try-outs?" </p><p>"You'll just have to come tomorrow morning and see who made the second cut," his smile was devilish. </p><p>"Nooo come on," you really needed the distraction of a conversation Why was he making this difficult? "Just give me the run-down or something. I know jackshit about Quidditch, and if I go tomorrow, it'll be to eye up the hotties, not evaluate their ball-chucking technique." You actually <i>did</i> know a decent amount about Quidditch, but it was the first excuse you could think of.</p><p>He shot you a side-long glance, picking up the pace. "I can introduce you to the <i>hotties</i> today so you can focus on their technique tomorrow. We could use more people in the bleachers anyway. Gryffindor's got the field after us, and I want to make sure they know their place," he flicked his eyes towards you for a moment, "And think about it, it'll be more interesting for you to watch if there are names attached to faces. Now, hurry up before they enchant the locks and my bag is trapped in until Monday." You let out an exaggerated sigh, hoping Malfoy knew just how displeased you were with the increased speed, but secretly glad that it excused your lingering blush from earlier. </p><p>This wasn't just speed-walking. You were pretty sure both feet had to be on the ground to qualify, though you couldn't help but admire how fit Malfoy was. All the same, you were tempted to trip him and <i>Accio</i> the bag over against his wishes. Instead, you resigned to shuffle a few steps behind him, panting as you jogged. Once again, you couldn't help but question that wicked lung support.</p><p>"Tell me Malfoy, do you play any instruments?" You took advantage of the way turning his head back to look at you slowed him down, if only slightly.</p><p>"Piano since I was four, but I'm hardly a natural talent. Why do you ask?" His face scrunched up, confused.</p><p>"Have you considered taking up flute?...Your lungs...they...so much air," speaking of air, you were losing it. You weren't that out of shape. If anything--well no, you weren't out of shape, but you certainly weren't <i>in it</i> either. The four sets of stairs weren't helping, but you knew the two of you had to be closing in on the locker room when the house banners began popping up with more frequency, competing for wall space and attention between the over-hangings of every passing corridor branch.</p><p>Turning one last corner, you observed how the double doors of what must be the locker room were enchanted to fly straight open the second Malfoy stepped in front of them. You watched as he hurried through the entrance. Noticing that you had not accompanied him passed the divide, however, Malfoy turned back to look at you, jerking his head to indicate that you should follow. </p><p>"What? You're telling me there aren't gendered charms in the locker rooms?" you asked incredulous. You took a hesitant step towards the boy.</p><p>"Well, Quidditch isn't a <i>gendered</i> sport. Slytherin's had only boy teams for the past couple of years, so I don't know how the other houses deal with it, but you're fine to come in," he paused, "Unless you didn't want to meet the, what was it, <i>hotties</i>?" </p><p>You rolled your eyes. "It's probably abandoned by now, anyway." You crossed the threshold into the locker room, following after Malfoy. A short, narrow hallway led to a single door, which Draco took the courtesy of holding open for you once again, a hand at your back giving you no choice but to hurry inside. The room was very similar to what you had seen in the occasional high school muggle film, but wooden cubbies instead of those garishly painted metal lockers. There were two rows of benches, one, abandoned as you had expected, and the other. Well...there were two half-dressed boys, and they were blinking back up to you a little <i>too</i> calmly for your own panic-stricken demeanor. </p><p>Malfoy approached them in a handful of strides. "Hey Warrington, Montague," they paused their hellos to perform a strange series of hand shaking and back slaps. "Didn't think you'd stick around this long. Would you happen to know where I left my school bag?"</p><p>The taller one, Warrington, motioned to a far corner of the room. Malfoy abandoned you immediately for the indicated location. You were left blushing and alone in front of two shirtless, fit, and strapping boys. </p><p>
  <i>Fuck.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Heyy, sorry a little shorter than usual, but I just wanted to get back into the swing of writing. What to you guys make of jock Malfoy?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Leg Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been going back and editing but god why is it impossible for me to not have typos</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You hoped the breadth of your stare, dragging up and down the boys, came off as intimidating. By all definitions of the word, you were anything but, but if you could portray yourself as such? You might earn yourself a seat at the table. Turn this more than awkward interaction into friendship, or at the very least, mutual respect. </p><p> Warrington was the taller of the two with a square build, tousled brown hair, and warm brown eyes to match. You could tell that his nose was straight once upon a time, but whether by blunt force or hex, the boy's nose angled slightly to the left. Not unattractively, but in the way that seemed literary, if not a bit heroic. You squinted your eyes slightly when meeting his gaze, placing a tentative finger to your lips. Then, with more confidence, you fixed your finger on the boy.</p><p>"Chaser?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You're a Chaser aren't you?" He had been caught off guard the first time, so you repeated, slower. From the corner of your eye, you could see even Malfoy perk up at the guess.</p><p>But there was no mystery. You knew you were right the second Warrington smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. How did you know?" There was something of awe in his tone.</p><p>You tapped your nose with a smirk. "A Beater got you good, didn't they?" At that, Warrington let out a right good laugh. </p><p>"Now him!" Warrington said, ruffling Montague's hair playfully. Or more like, scrubbing what little there was left of it.</p><p>The shorter boy had a significantly grimmer, more intimidating presence. He was stocky but muscular, with a closely shaven head and blue, shark-like eyes. </p><p>"Too easy," you smiled, teasing. It wasn't easy at all, really, considering there was no tell like Warrington's ruggedly broken nose, but you liked taking the piss. Distracted you from the shirtlessness, at the very least.</p><p>"What is it, then?" Montague's words were a little too gruff for your liking. His tone caused a shift in the conversation. This didn't feel like a game anymore, but some strange play at pride.  </p><p>Examining closer, you noticed his calloused grip. But who was to say that any other position couldn't have callouses? There was a small cut at the corner of his lips that your were itching to heal, but refrained from. And there was of course, his stocky build. All things that told you nothing. No, this was not going to be your Sherlock moment.</p><p>All the same, you did the same, eye-squinting, beard-stroking considering act that you had put on for Warrington, finally landing on the word: "Beater!"</p><p>Montague's eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"</p><p>You smiled sweetly. "Because there's no way you've been laid." </p><p>It was Malfoy's turn to guffaw with laughter as he reentered the scene with backpack in hand, Warrington following suit in a strange, bent-over, silent knee-slapping fashion. A few moments, and the two boys straightened themselves, wiping tears out of their eyes as their sour friend scowled. You giggled at the sight, amused by the boys' amusement, but not entirely proud of your unclever, and frankly, low blow. </p><p>"Wellll," Warrington drawled, still collecting himself. "Mr. Wee-Pee and I were gonna get some extra hours in on the field before you two came storming in. Want to join us?" </p><p>You shot a glance at Malfoy. He shrugged, as if to say up to you. You returned your gaze to the boys. "Malfoy was meant to be tutoring me. We should probably be getting back to it but..." You couldn't help the way a grin crept onto your face. "I don't see the harm in a little detour." </p><p>That seemed to be the correct response as Malfoy and Warrington cheered, immediately grappling for supplies before racing each other to the field. Montague continued his skulking act, but you could tell he was more than excited to be returning to his practice. </p><p>It was a solid 5 minutes before the four of you made it onto the field. You trailed behind the boys slightly, taking in the crisp night air as they argued over which positions they would be playing in the scrimmage. How they would even play in the dark, let alone play among three people, had yet to be addressed, but you were satisfied to feel the tall grass against your ankles and listen to the quiet bickering in peace. </p><p>That is, until they turned to you with an urgent question. </p><p>"What team will you be on then?" It might have been Warrington that asked, but you couldn't be sure with how dark it was.</p><p>"Oh, I'm playing, am I?"</p><p>"Of course! We need even teams, after all." This time you could tell it had definitely been Warrington. All three boys had stopped moving, turning to stare at you instead. Awaiting a response it seemed. </p><p>"No offense to Chasers," you considered for a moment, "but obviously I'm gonna want the Seeker on my team," you laughed.</p><p>"There's no way I mentioned I was a Seeker," Malfoy interjected. "How did you know?"</p><p>"I'll tell you some other time," you smiled furtively. All three boys let out a groan, dissatisfied, but seemingly too eager to start the game to inquire further.  </p><p>Malfoy pushed the handle of a broom into your palm as the two teams split off to opposite sides of the field. You hadn't realized that Malfoy had brought a spare, but you were grateful, to say the least. There was no way to play actual Quidditch with such limited numbers, but Malfoy explained to you in a hushed whisper that a single Quaffle had been released. First to score a point won the lot. </p><p>"I'll take Keeper," you announced.</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>You fixed Malfoy with a glare.</p><p>"Alright then, all yours," he raised his hands defensively. You were positioning yourself for lift-off, but paused once feeling Malfoy's hand on your shoulder. "Visionem nocte," he whispered. You watched as the world lit up in front of your eyes. The blacks of the shadows turned to blues, the few specks of light provided by castle windows now blinding, and the environment as a whole seemed to turn the saturation up a thousand percent. It was if God had gotten a little too handsy with the dodge tool. </p><p>You felt your jaw drop. Malfoy chuckled. "Good luck," he whispered, and then he was off. Barreling a handful of steps forward, the boy was already 20 feet in the air before you had truly registered that the game had begun.  </p><p>You followed suit, building momentum in a sprint before leaping in the air yourself. Your grip tightened around the broom's handle, unused to the balance of the bristles as they cut through the air. The hair at your arms prickled as a hush came over the stadium, finally stationing yourself in front of yours and Malfoy's goal. </p><p>The wait for action was excruciating. Malfoy was a little too good on the broom, keeping the scrimmage almost entirely in the middle and opposing side of the field. He was little more than a flash of white at this distance, but you were in awe of the way he dove halos around Warrington and Montague, launching the Quaffle into one direction only to recatch, relaunch, and restart the process all again, and within moments. </p><p>Ten minutes in, and your mind was wandering. It was no wonder that you hadn't registered the three boys barreling towards you until there was a mere 20 feet between them and your goal. Startled into action, you observed as Montague had given up on protecting his goal entirely, instead launching the Quaffle back and forth between himself and Warrington, an unintentional game of Malcolm in the Middle with a frustrated Malfoy. </p><p>You paid closer attention to Warrington, the set Chaser, watching the angle and intention of his hands with each successful catch. Finally, as Warrington's grip encircled the Quaffle with goal-scoring aim, you watched as the ball arched through the air and towards you with speed.</p><p>It was a low blow. From what you could tell, the Quaffle would just barely brush the bottom edge of your goal, leaving you little time to dive for it and catch. There were mere seconds between you and a Warrington win.</p><p>Without a second thought, you swung from the broom, suspending the entirety of your weight by a single hand. The velocity of the movement gave you one single chance to make contact with the Quaffle, and hopefully, get it anywhere but where you were. </p><p>And to your luck and absolute surprise, your foot made contact. In fact, your shoe came flying off as the four of you hovered in breathless anticipation as to where the Quaffle may end up. Incredibly, the ball arched through the air, eating tens of yards up in seconds, and finally, impossibly actually, the Quaffle had flown straight through the opposite goal. </p><p>There were a flurry of roars, laughter, and confused ramblings. The boys settled for cheers, helping you back up onto your broom before tackling you once both feet were safely stationed back in the overgrown grass of the field. You, yourself, were a mess of hysterical laughter and joy, doubled over in the impossibility of it all. </p><p>Finally catching your breath, the four of you settled to trek back up to the Slytherin dorms, relaying the events among yourselves in broken whispers.</p><p>"Yeah and she--"</p><p>"Then SWOOP and Y/N just HUNG there--"</p><p>"Launched it straight through the air!"</p><p>"Balls of fucking steel on that--"</p><p>Upon finally arriving at the dungeons, Warrington and Montague waved their goodbyes, departing back up to their dorms. The bunch of you had stopped by the Potion's classroom on the way to grab your stuff, finally letting the bag you retrieved crash to the floor as you settled into the common room couch out of exhaustion. Malfoy watched with a sleepy smile, finally resolving to flop down right next to you. </p><p>"Heading back up any time soon, Superstar?" He folded both arms behind his head, settling in further into the couch.</p><p>"Nah, still got that essay on Amortentia for Snape. I was hoping to finish it up during our tutoring session but now...I can't let myself go back up to my dorm until its finished. I don't have the willpower to not just go to bed if I did." </p><p>Malfoy sputtered out a laugh. "Right, well, there's no way I'm coming down from that game any time soon. Might as well tire myself helping you out."</p><p>And that was that.</p><p>Draco lounged on the couch as you sat on the carpeted floor of the common room, hunching over the coffee table as you muscled through every word. It was late, and of course everyone else had already gone to bed. For the most part, he stayed silent, reading from over your shoulder as you wrote, occasionally commenting. His legs stretched across the sofa, feet brushing the opposing arm rest, a single arm propping up his head as he crooned closer, your words creeping towards the bottom of the parchment.</p><p>Having begun to relay the etymology of the potion, its effects already described, you allowed your hand to stall a moment to reread your latest sentence: <i>Amortentia is named for the Roman goddess of love, Amor, and the latin word "tentia," for held. Together, the potion's name effectively conveys the power of love as experienced by the nose. </i></p><p>"You stopped writing," Draco murmured somewhere from above you. His voice was significantly deeper. Probably from exhaustion. And yelling. There had been plenty of yelling just an hour earlier.</p><p>"No kidding, thanks for stating the obvious," you considered scratching out the last part.<br/><i>As experienced by the nose</i> sounded ironically stuffy and a little too awkward. You picked up the quill again determined to conclude the essay with modern uses of the potion, such as the fountain of Amortentia proudly displayed in the Department of Mysteries's Love Chamber, before packing up to sleep.</p><p>Nearing on the end, you had waited too long to scribble out the last few words of the essay, a single blob of opaque ink splattering over the concluding sentence instead. You threw your head back in untethered rage, perhaps a little sleep-deprived, as you sunk against the couch cushion behind you. You barely registered how the crown of your head pressed into Draco's side, certainly not noticing the way he stilled under your inadvertent touch.</p><p>"I can't do this essay anymore," the strangled cry escaped your throat. Your eyes had squeezed shut in the frustration of the moment, but upon opening them, finally coming back to your senses, you realized just how awkward the position you had put yourself in was. Draco, still propped up on an arm, was staring down at you, a small smirk on his face. It was weird to see him from this angle, strangely intimate as his nose hovered inches from your own.</p><p>"Is there something else you'd like to do?" he smiled suggestively.</p><p>"Like what?" you groaned, lifting yourself a moment to rid yourself of the parchment, and hopefully, your awkward position on the couch. Finished, you allowed your head to sink back into the cushion, this time, careful to put an inch of space between your head and Malfoy's side. Before you could even react, there he was, swooping in closer, nearly closing the gap between your lips, but not quite. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, unsure.</p><p>"Me," his lips smashed into yours. It was brief and warm. That couldn't have been real. You had to have made that up. </p><p>You pulled back just as he did, unsure of whether you had even reciprocated, so in shock. His face turned beet red, avoiding eye contact as you sat watching him in mingled awe and confusion.</p><p>"What was that," you breathed.</p><p>"Nothing. Don't worry about it," he pushed himself up into a sitting position on the couch, back to the armrest. He shifted, preparing to swing a leg over the couch and bolt.</p><p>"Draco. Stop."</p><p>"No really, forget about it."</p><p>"<i>Draco</i>."</p><p>"Please," he pleaded, but you couldn't let him leave. Not after that. You placed a hand on his shoulder, stalling him for moment, before using the other to grab at his tie. A single, sharp tug, and his face came flying down to yours as you pressed your own firm kiss to his face. In the struggle of the movement, you had really only captured about half of his lip. The kiss lasted only a second before Malfoy was the one pulling back, eyes wide.</p><p>"Are we--"</p><p>"Merlin, <i>yes</i>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My Beater joke was in fact about Montague beating his meat, but like,,,what was she-who-must-not-be-named expecting when she decided to call a Quidditch position that?? Like come on.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Benefits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Merlin, <i>yes</i>."</p><p>And that was all you had to say before he captured your lips in his again. It was slower, more careful this time. You indulged his caution for a second before taking a fistful of that white-blond hair into your grasp (Merlin knows how long you'd been waiting to touch it). You needed him closer. Pressed up against you. You needed to crawl into his skin. You reposition yourself, no longer craning your neck to the side but rather kneeling on both knees, head tilted upward to meet Draco's lips.</p><p>His feet were firmly planted on the ground, one to either side of you as he positioned himself on the very edge of the seat cushion. Your hands reached up to encircle the boys neck, drawing him down towards you. It seemed he had other plans. Breaking the kiss briefly, you allowed him to draw you up and onto the couch by your waist. As you adjusted yourself to straddle his lap, he distracted himself by leaving wet kisses down your throat. The sensation was new--unreal--as he drew breathy moans passed your lips. You allowed you head to curl into the crook of his neck, focusing on the sensation of his tongue on your throat.</p><p>It was too much, and not nearly enough. You nudged him away from his ministrations, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth before catching his eye briefly. He was beautiful. Something of that sweaty boy inadvertently stripping in the Potions classroom was there, all blue-eyed and panting. His lips quirked up into a smile and your stomach flipped. Mimicking Malfoy's previous actions, you allowed your eyes to flick to the pale expanse of the boy's neck. His Adam's apple bobbed. </p><p>You kissed a trail from ear to collar bone, taking particular notice of the way he twitched beneath you at a spot right where the jaw met throat. You paused there. A careful lick told you all you needed to know. Attacking the spot with sloppy kisses, occasionally nipping at the skin, and more than occasionally sucking on the sensitive spot, you could feel the boy grow hard beneath you.</p><p>Noting how ideally you now sat in his lap, you ground your hips forward experimentally. A sharp groan escaped the boy, stalling beneath you briefly. Coming to his sense a moment later, you could feel the pressure of his fingers pressing into your thighs. There was a twang of pleasure forming between your legs as you continued with the slow, exploratory movement of hips against hips, thighs involuntarily tightening around the boy as he stroked small circles.</p><p>Malfoy pulled back for a moment, breathless. "We can't do this here," he shifted closer, a ragged whisper in your ear.</p><p>"Who said we have to," you occupied your hands by loosening the tie from around his neck. That thing really came in handy, you thought to yourself.</p><p>"Blaise and Theodore are probably sleeping in my dorm," he gulped, "We could move this to the Room of Requirement if you--"</p><p>You cut him off,  giving the tie a tug. "My dorm," you whispered against his mouth, trailing your lips back up to his ears. "No roommates. Just you and me."</p><p>"How did you manage that," he giggled. Actually giggled. A mixture between the sharp laughter on the Quidditch field and the huffs or air which escaped him when you ran a finger down his arm. Shifting from your current position, you took his hand, tugging him towards the girls' staircase.</p><p>"Something about dorm-mates being chosen the year prior. Blah, blah, blah. Doesn't matter as long as I get to see you out of that uniform in the next five minutes." Draco shot you a lazy grin, lips swollen and red. There were already red marks forming at his neck. Something wicked told you to give him some more. You glanced at the stairs, then back at Malfoy, frowning.</p><p>"What, what's up?" he let a hand sweep up and down your arm, oddly tender.</p><p>"I'm gonna have to piggy-back you up the stairs, aren't I," you laughed, only slightly hysterical.</p><p>"What are you--ohhh. The enchantment. You certainly don't have to. Like I said, the Room of Requirements..." he trailed off.</p><p>With a sigh you crouched forward slightly, a stabilizing hand on the stair rail. "Come on then."</p><p>"You can't be serious." You could hear  the wrinkle of his brow.</p><p>You peeked at him from under your arm to confirm. Even upside down, you could make out his hesitation. "I am the face of seriousness."</p><p>"I promise you these abs weigh more than you think they do."</p><p>"I won't be able to vouch for those abs until you jump onto my back and let me carry you to my room."</p><p>You fixed him with a stern look, but the situation was ridiculous. Were you really going to let this boy half-squash you just so you could get railed in the comfort of your room. Well...yeah. Yeah, you were. With a laugh, you motioned for him to hop on, shaking your ass just a smidge.</p><p>"Trying to entice me are you," he held back a full blown cackle. "Fine, but you're gonna have to get a little lower than that. Not very flexible, remember?" With that, he awkwardly lumbered onto your back, wrapping his arms tightly across your chest. Heaving the weight of his legs upwards with a hop, you got them to nestle in the crook of your hip more sturdily than you had been expecting. Oddly enough, you could picture yourself in that moment as a medieval bar maid, heaving a laundry basket on her hip. You nearly lost your balance at the thought, holding back a giggle, but focused on getting one foot over the other. One stair at a time.</p><p>It really wasn't too bad. A whole thirty seconds later and you were at the top of the stairs. You weren't done quite yet, however. With a wild grin, you launched towards the end of the hall, Malfoy still on your back. You could hear his sounds of protestation, hushed only for the benefit of the slumbering students you passed.</p><p>"I'm still on your back, you know!"</p><p>"Oh, I know."</p><p>Stopping at the right door and hesitating for only a second, you let yourself in. Within mere seconds, you swung yourself around, allowing the boy's weight to body-slam him onto your bed with a hysterical laugh. Catching his breath for a few long moments, the boy fixed you with the most incredulous look, a small smile forming at his lips.</p><p>"You're insane," he breathed.</p><p>"Maybe a little."</p><p>"Well, that's fine by me." He didn't waste a second, pinning you onto your back with a kiss. He allowed a knee to fall between your legs, stabilizing himself, as he attacked you with his lips. The pressure was unbecoming as you squirmed to release some of the tension at your core. He seemed to catch on to your discomfort, hooking a single finger around your belt buckle.</p><p>He tugged. "Is this okay?"</p><p>You nodded your enthusiastic consent as he moved to unbutton your pants. He slipped them off entirely in a series of nervous, stilted movements. It made you smile. You drew him back up to your face, dipping your gaze to his shirt. You placed a single hand at the collar.</p><p>"Is this okay?" You mirrored his words.</p><p>"Merlin, yes."</p><p>He helped you undo the button down, finally shrugging off the fabric and discarding it onto the heap where your robes had ended up at some point in this whole interaction. The two of you continued in this fashion, pointing at clothing, confirming, and removing until you were both left in nothing but underwear.</p><p>You stilled, taking a moment to appreciate the expanse of Malfoy's skin. His face was a pale red, as expected, but as were his shoulders, and hands, and joints which connected the large swathes of pale and sculpted limbs. He was beautiful. You reached up, trailing your hand down his side, feeling the hardened muscle. No, Malfoy had not been lying about the abs.</p><p>You couldn't tell if it was the stone wall of the room or sheer anticipation that had you shivering, but you tugged Malfoy closer. With little more than a bra and underwear to keep you warm, you relied on the heat of his skin: a hand at your hip, an arm braced by your head, his legs against yours. He had paused briefly after the discarding of clothes, giving you a second to glance at the clock on your night stand. 2 AM. </p><p>"When were those Quidditch tryouts again?" you breathed.</p><p> Malfoy's head bowed into the crook of your shoulder. You could feel the vibration of his laugh against your skin. "What?" he sounded incredulous. </p><p>"I can't attend if I don't remember what time to show up," you shared in his laugh. He brought both arms up to your head now, caging you between his forearms. </p><p>He nipped at your ear. "9 AM. Thinking of trying out?" He shot you a grin.</p><p>"Oh, I don't know about that," you hooked a thumb around his boxers. His eyelids fell closed, lips hovering just above yours as you shimmied them down his body. You reciprocated the action on yourself, kicking your underwear off with a flick. "But as you should probably know but now," you hooked a leg around his back, "I just so happen to ride rather well." </p><p>In one swift motion, you had Malfoy underneath you again. He shot you a wild grin, eyes still half-lidded. "I don't quite remember. Would you mind demonstrating?"</p><p>You lifted a hand to the clasp of your bra.  A single tug and you were shrugging off the straps in mere moments. You leaned forward, a small groan escaping Malfoy. Lips hovering over lips, you whispered. "My pleasure."</p><p>But before Malfoy could lean forward to meet you with a kiss, you had withdrawn, fixing to straddle him. The boy's hands went to your waist immediately, helping to guide you upwards just enough to sink back on top of him. You held back a moan, trying to adjust to the sensation of being filled up so nicely. Malfoy's hands settled back into the dips of your hips, continuing to guide you as you rocked forward experimentally. The pressure of his fingers on your flesh increased with each thrust. They hurt in the best way possible. You wondered if he might leave bruises. </p><p>Noting how bowing forward increased the friction of the position deliciously, you allowed your breasts to press against Malfoy's chest just slightly. You were delighted by the sounds the boy was making, hips bucking upwards to meet yours. You could feel a tightening at your core with each roll of your hips, unaware of the whimpers which escaped you. In attempting to chase the high you felt, your movements became more sloppy and soon enough you were squirming on top of him. You didn't want to stop, but you also weren't in a position to maintain the methodical thrusts necessary to come.</p><p>Before you could adjust, Malfoy had flipped you over. You glared at the boy as he slipped out of you, panting mere inches away from you lips. You kissed him, hard, hoping he understood your displeasure with the change in events. He laughed against you, retreating briefly.</p><p>"My turn," is all the warning he gave before slipping back into you. A gasp escaped your lips as the pace of each thrust took on the rhythm you were previously unable to achieve. You felt yourself spasm beneath him, walls tightening and untightening around his length as he pumped without abandon. You didn't think it could get any better, that is, until he brought a delicate hand to your clit, rubbing slow circles as he continued his ministrations. </p><p>You were at a loss for words and air. You couldn't place the pleasure, just that it was everywhere and that you were ready to burst. Entirely unaware of your grasp on Malfoy's back, your fingers clawed at the skin, attempting to find purchase. There was nothing to do but bury your head into the boy's neck and wait out the crashing high. Even after your final scream of delight, Malfoy's pace just barely slowed, only stuttering to a stop as he released himself inside of you. </p><p>Malfoy heaved to the side, flopping down beside you in the bed. The two of you laid in the silence of your ever slowing breaths, staring up at the ceiling. You weren't sure if you were capable of movement. Just moments before you had been flesh and heat and action and now...you were floating. You couldn't place where one limb started or ended, just the pleasing ache of exhaustion as you sunk further into the wad of blankets. Malfoy shifted beside you, now lying on his side, facing you. You rolled your head to meet his gaze, a lazy smile at your lips. </p><p>His cheeks had faded to a pink, his eyes glazed in something unplaceable, his lips red and swollen. Something blossomed in your chest. You'd deal with that later. You felt his nose against your cheek, a whisper in your ear: "Is it okay if I stay the night?"</p><p>You flipped over with a huff, fully facing him now. You nuzzled into the pillows with a small smile.</p><p>"Of course."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't get too comfortable with this relationship yet ;) We have ~plot points~ on the horizon. Also, this was my first time writing a smut scene. EVER. She's gonna need some work.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Girl Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You awoke to an odd shuffling of duvets and covers. Brain muddled, you flipped to your left, surprised by the whole <i>boy</i> snoozing in your bed. It hit you all at once. Yesterday, Quidditch, essay, Malfoy, Malfoy, <i>Malfoy</i>. </p><p>Could you really keep calling him by his last name when his penis had been inside of you just yesterday? You sighed to yourself, a half grin on your face as you stilled to admire the boy. His arms were shoved under a pillow, legs splayed across the mattress as if he had never had to share a bed with anyone else in his entire life. His face was adorably squished, strands of silvery hair framing the pillow creases across his left eye. It reminded you that he was not, in fact, made of marble. But alas, the alarm clock read 8 and you knew he'd want to be up and get some food in him before Quidditch tryouts. </p><p>Hesitant to expose yourself to the cool morning air to, to break the bubble lingering on last night's memory, you lifted a single arm from under the covers, prodding at Malfoy's side. He stirred slightly, mumbling something under his breath. You poked again, harder, and with more intention. Nothing but a groan and some shuffling in return. Annoyed and a little disturbed by the depth of his slumber, you slid in closer. Delivering another, forceful prod to his ribs, you awaited his response.</p><p>Malfoy's arms lifted without warning. In a single, swift movement, he'd entrapped you in his arms, scooping you into his chest with half-lidded eyes and a slick smile on his lips. A gasp escaped you as he snuggled into your shell-shocked form.</p><p>"Gotcha," he mumbled into your hair.</p><p>Easing slightly, you laughed into the crook of his exposed neck. "Oh, so that was the plan?" </p><p>He squeezed you tighter in reply.</p><p>This was odd. Not a bad odd by any means. No, definitely not bad, but it certainly raised some questions. You tried your best to examine the situation as an outsider, despite being crushed in the arms of the very variable of confusion at that very moment. You had kissed your tutor after a week of acquaintance (well, really he kissed you, but what was the point arguing semantics), followed that up with some rockin' sex, and finished with a strong cuddle the day after. It was simply too good to be true, and yet...you breathed in the scent of him, choosing to enjoy this moment for just a second longer.</p><p>That second was up far too soon. Malfoy jerked out of bed without warning, untangling himself from you with an apology on his tongue. Head languidly propped up on hand, you narrated Malfoy's actions as he stepped into his underwear, struggled with his belt, and slinked back into his school robes with unwarranted speed. You smiled as he paused with hand on tie and a quirk to his lips. As <i>if </i>you would allow your lacking conception of tie tying to impede your relentless teasing. </p><p>"Before you do that," you interrupted his slow show of tie-superiority, "come here real quick." </p><p>Confused but intrigued, he sauntered to your side. You curled a finger, indicating that he should bend closer. His eyes caught yours, slid down to your lips, finding your eyes again after a moment or two. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and you laughed.</p><p>"Not that!" You slapped his arm playfully. Placing a careful hand at his jaw, you positioned his head at an angle so as to better examine which aspects of last night were peaking out from his collar. A significant amount, it seemed. You grabbed for the wand on your bedside table, casting a regretful <i>episkey!</i> You noted how the myriad of purple and greening bruises which littered his neck had faded with zero resolve. You were almost hoping they would put up more of a fight. </p><p>Surprised at the spell, Malfoy narrowed his eyes. You smoothed the collar of his shirt back into place, explaining, "If someone saw all those hickeys, I'd either be accused of vampirism or attempted murder." You forced a laugh. It was either joke about the situation, or consider the implications of why someone discovering the marks made your stomach flip. Were you protecting Malfoy...or yourself? </p><p>You were distracted by the sly crinkle of Malfoy's eyes. "Is that so?" You watched, still, as his eyes dip back to your lips. He didn't linger on the words, choosing instead to press a final, soft kiss to your mouth. You startled slightly, easing into the kiss after a beat. You were confused at how easy it was to give in. Unsure of whether affection was the natural progression of this...relationship? Or whatever. 

"In that case," his eyes dipped to your jaw, "you're gonna want to clear these up before I'm jailed." </p><p>With that, he was off, closing the door with a gentle click. </p><p>Choosing not to fixate on whatever <i>that</i> was, you decided it was best to start dressing if catching tryouts was still on the agenda. Glancing in the mirror, you had to admit Malfoy wasn't wrong. A series of budding bruises trailed from your ear to shoulder, all purples and blues and blushing pinks. There would be no hiding these. </p><p>You reached for your wand on instinct, but your hand didn't extend passed that. A beat. You let the hand drop, opting instead for a chunky house scarf over a high-collared dress shirt and sweater. Warm. Comfortable. Modest. Maybe suspiciously so, but you couldn't bring yourself to change. It was stupid. You could acknowledge that you were being stupid in that moment, no doubt, but something told you to leave them. Proof that you didn't make it all up.</p><p>Erasing any evidence of last night from your hair, you made your way down to the Great Hall with determination. All corridors were barren, most students opting to sleep in on this Saturday morning. Voicing your hellos to the more vocal paintings, you slipped into the dinner hall, grabbed two saran-wrapped muffins, and reoriented. Navigation was still a little difficult, but a little resolve and a little muffin and you were sure you could make it to the field without too many issues.</p><p>The air was crisp outside, staining your nose a faint pink. There were a handful of students in the Slytherin bleachers, but a quick survey of the rest of the stadium solidified the student body's desire for sleep over sport. You couldn't blame them. </p><p>Popping the second muffin into your generous robe pockets, you settled in at the back of the bleachers. A hoard of boys on brooms circled the field in what you could only assume was warm up. There were very few boys and even fewer girls you could put a name to. </p><p>On the verge of giving up on any semblance of recognition, you caught Warrington's eyes. His face lit up immediately, his crooked nose quirking to the left with the force of a smile. You watched as he shoved Montague to his right, motioning towards you with outstretched arms. A series of stilted waves and odd, badly-communicated charades greeted you from across the stadium. You joined them, attempting at one point to spell at H-E-L-L-O with your arms and exaggeratedly mouthed words, stalling once you realized the three of your were attracting stares. Waving them back to practice with a laugh, you settled back down with a smile. It was strange how quickly they had become your friends. All it took was an accidental trick shot and here they were, greeting you like the sleepiest, broom-riding golden retrievers you had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. You almost wanted to pet Montague's fuzzy buzz-cut head.</p><p>You shook your head, smiling encouragingly as they finally returned to practice. Somehow, almost impossibly actually, you had missed Malfoy's silver head hovering mere feet from the pair of boys. You realized with a blush that he had been watching the entire commotion. 

Your eyes met from across the field. He shot you a smile. You lifted a hesitant hand, waving. With a satisfied grin, Malfoy ducks back into action, barking at a handful of distracted Second Years. </p><p>You shuffled in your seat, wind drawing tears from the corners of your eyes, stinging cold and all. What were you doing here? Because you had no where else to be? Because you had mentioned it last night? Because you had asked Malfoy during Potions as a flimsy excuse at conversation? There were plenty explanations, and yet, you weren't sure of any of them. Which was right. The implications behind each wrong answer.</p><p>A creek of the metal bleachers threw you from your thoughts. Peeking out of your right eye, you caught sight of none other than Pansy Parkinson. Out of all the miles of empty seating, she chose to sit right next to you. </p><p>"I saw you looking at Draco," she broke the silence, casual. A furtive glance told you that Pansy was staring straight ahead, fixing her eyes on the warm-up. </p><p>"I mean not really," you tried your best to match her tone. Prior experience told you to be careful around <i>that</i> topic. "Just waving at Warrington and Montague."</p><p>Pansy hummed in response. She didn't seem to be listening. "So what's your deal with him anyway?"</p><p>Flashes of sculpted limbs. The feeling of pin-feather hair against your neck. Swollen, aching lips. You angled your head downward. Hoped the red in your cheeks could be explained away by the wind.</p><p>"He's my Potions tutor," you cleared your throat. She might've had the right idea, staring at the field and all. You joined her, an awkward laugh escaping your throat. "I kinda fucked up my first week and now Snape thinks I'm a complete idiot." </p><p>"Well, are you?"</p><p>"Excuse me?" </p><p>Her eyes snapped to you for the first time. "If you were smart, you'd see that Malfoy doesn't care about you. If he's flirting, it's to get you into bed for a quick fuck. He's been with half the Slytherin girls in our year already. If you haven't caught on to that by now, well, that might just be saying something as to your...intelligence."</p><p>Okay.</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>You remained silent. By the tone of Pansy's voice, you could that she had meant to hurt your feelings. And to your complete and utter surprise...she hadn't. If anything, a weight lifted from your chest. </p><p>So Malfoy was a fuckboy. A shameless flirt. You could work with that. There was no reason for you to project expectations onto a boy you had only known for a week, and he certainly had not been projecting expectations onto you with that kiss this morning. There were no expectations. It was a relief. No need to follow up with Malfoy, no need to worry, no need to wonder. Pansy might be a bit mean (not that you liked nice anyway), but she had just gifted to you the exact thing that you needed to hear. The fact of the matter: you'd much rather have a friend in Pansy than try and fight over a nice pair abs. It was settled then. You would tell Pansy exactly what she wanted to hear (and really, what you needed to say out loud). </p><p>Trying your best at a disheartening sigh, you gave Pansy a nudge. "Ah well. Us girls got to stick together, you gave her a wicked grin. "Can't have boys going around thinking they can break our hearts." To your joy, she shared in your smile. You shuffled through your robe pockets for a moment. Producing a single, saran-wrapped muffin, you offered it to Pansy. A peace-offering of sorts.</p><p>You watched as her shoulders relaxed, her death-grip on the bleachers releasing to accept the muffin. You couldn't believe it. From that moment forward, Pansy was almost pleasant to be around. The rest of tryouts played out in an exchange of gossip, Pansy pointing out the odd boy to make fun of. You learned far too much and not nearly enough. You made her promise to tell you more at lunch. </p><p>You had been so caught up in conversation that it took Pansy shaking your shoulders and pointing with alarm to a boy on the field splayed out at awkward angles to stir you into action. Some had <i>fallen</i>. And you hadn't even noticed. Leaping from the bleachers, Pansy trailed as you bolted down the steps. </p><p>A circle of boys stood around the kid, unmoving. There seemed to be some shouts for Madam Pomfrey, but shock rendered action improbable. You elbowed your way through the crowd with an annoyed huff, falling to your knees by the kids side. You were surprised to find just how young he was. Second year, max. You cast a series of healing charms, attempting to patch up the situation as little and as quickly as possible--just enough to move him without risking your limited healing knowledge causing some unknowable damage. </p><p>You fixed your stare on the closest boy. "You!" you exclaimed, "grab him and get him to Madame Pomfrey. Carefully please. Try not to jostle him too much. He's probably concussed." </p><p>There were a few false starts, but you were eventually able to stir two boys into action. One clutching at the kids legs and the other holding him by the arms, you cooed reassuringly at the barely conscious Second year. </p><p>It took ten tense minutes to navigate from the field to the hospital wing in this strange, stilted, spider formation. The occasional student would linger on the procession but your glare was enough to scare them off. Finally coming upon the hospital wing, you attempted to dampen the obvious distress in your knock on the double doors. Not a second later, Madame Pomfrey burst forward, a whirlwind of clucks and hushes, ushering the second year in through the doors with a reassuring smile. She fixed any stragglers with a stern look before insisting they all depart to let the child rest. All but you.</p><p>"Darling, come here a moment," she pulled you in through the doors, shutting them with a resounding finality. </p><p>"What's wrong? He's gonna be okay, right? Did I cast something wrong? Do you need more Pepperup?" you shot out question after question at an astounding speed.</p><p>"Oh nothing serious, deary. Just--" she pushed up onto her tip toes to reach for a jar just above your head. You startled for a moment, following her hands as they presented you with a salve of some sort. She lowered her voice. "Rub this onto your neck and wipe it off within five minutes. You'll be good as new," she smiled kindly, but you didn't miss the conspiratorial wink at the end of that statement.</p><p>The horror of realization crept onto your face. A hand shot up to your neck, pawing at the fabric which had slipped out of place in the confusion of the past few minutes. With a curt nod, you adjusted your scarf as best you could before bolting for the door, hoping to apply the salve as quickly and with as little further embarrassment as possible. </p><p>"Thank you!" You shouted passed your shoulder once on the precipice of escape. You weren't really thankful, but there wasn't much else to say. In such a hurry to escape the hospital wing, you crashed into something the moment you were out the door. Not something, on second glance. Someone. Malfoy.</p><p>"Oh, heyy, Malfoy," you adjusted the scarf furtively, "What are you doing here?" You tried your best at sounding casual. Like Pansy. You tried to channel her easy coolness.</p><p>He pointed towards the door. "That kid was kinda my responsibility," he sounded a bit...you couldn't place it. Put out? "You know, as try-out coordinator and all." You watched as he reached out absentmindedly, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened.</p><p>"Well, its been nice seeing you," you sputtered, grappling for an excuse to leave. You said the only thing you could think of in that moment: "Let me know if he's alright."</p><p>"Yeah, sure," he smiled. "See you Monday?"</p><p>You nodded, stiff and awkward. You turned to leave. Not a second later and Malfoy's hand was at your shoulder, stilling your movement. You tried your best to meet his eyes, hoping his height didn't give him a clear-shot view into your scarf. What would he think about you having not healed your neck sooner? Would he care? </p><p>"...Yes?" </p><p>"On second thought," he shot you a grin, "I could see you tonight. There's gonna be a party in the Slytherin Common Room to celebrate Quidditch season. It's a cross-House party, so I'll need some more familiar faces to keep me bickering with the Gryffindors all night. See you then?" He released his hand from your shoulder, a patient smile on his face.</p><p>If it was going to be in the Slytherin Common Room, there wasn't exactly much chance of you avoiding the party. If Common Room parties here were anything like they were at Ilvermorny, this could end up lasting hours. And of course, there was Malfoy, with his expectant grin, that jawline, those eyes... Merlin, how could you deny?</p><p>You let out a theatrical sigh, trying your best to suppress a smile. "I'll see you there, Malfoy."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One of the slower chapters, but I'm excited to write what goes down at the Common Room party. I hope you guys enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Truth or Spin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Valentines Day bitches!!!</p><p>(Aspects of this chapter are totally inspired by dracosathenaem’s fic “The Game.” Highly suggest you guys check it out!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was such a lovely Saturday that you decided to wander the castle after all of the morning's excitement. There was no way to truly describe the innate beauty of the grounds themselves, with their well kept grasses and perpetually flowering plants. You suspected there was an enchantment around this pocket of the world where Hogwarts inhabited, keeping its beauty everlasting. Or maybe it was just Professor Sprout's magic touch. </p><p>Making your rounds, you took time to admire the towering spires, the way they grasped at the heavens. The intricacy of wall carvings and precision of the castle's Gothic fleches fought for your attention, but it was the lake that stole your breath away. From inside the Slytherin common room, you could watch as the waters lapped about the glass-domed ceiling, an almost stained glass effect showering everything within in a sea glass green. From the surface, however, all you could detect was the pearlescent quality of sunlight on soft waves. </p><p>An hour or two into your wanderings, the grumble of your stomach warned you off further exploration. You enjoyed the trek back up to the tower. Enjoyed the smell of lunch even more. Bursting into the Great Hall, you surveyed the tables for familiar faces. It wasn't long before your eyes snagged on Pansy and her welcoming wave. You bee-lined to her with a grin.</p><p>"I thought you might want to hear the rest of that Lavender Brown story," she replied, a smug quality to her smile.</p><p>You sighed wistfully. "You know me so well." </p><p>Piling a little of everything onto your plate, you chowed down as Pansy mused on the intricacies of Lavender's obsession with one Ronald Weasely. You found it all infinitely amusing. Even with the little that you knew about the ginger boy, Pansy had a way of riddling the scandle with intrigue. Conversation flowed easily, only pausing on the rare occasion to let you choke down a bite before bursting into laughter. </p><p>"Ron Weasley. Of all people." She shook her head with a laugh. "If you're gonna go for a Weasely, at least make it one of the twins!"</p><p>"The twins?" you questioned.</p><p>She shot you a look of surprise, slamming her palms on the table with a dull thud. "Yes, the twins! I can't believe that you haven't heard about them yet. School's pranksters? A few years above us?"</p><p>"Nope. Nada. Care to fill me in?"</p><p>"Oh, at this point, I think it might be better for you to find out for yourself," she replied with a devious grin. "They'll be at the party tonight. Can't miss them. Anyway, it's my running theory that if they didn't have all that Weasley blood, they would've made fantastic Slytherins."</p><p>"Wait, back to the party, you'll be there right?" You tried your best not to sound nervous. "Is it cool if I tag along with you?" You were hesitant, not entirely sure what the party protocol was like at Hogwarts, and not wanting to make a fool of yourself.</p><p>Pansy took a bite of her apple, considering. "How about you stop by my dorm an hour before? We'll get ready together." It was less of a question, more of a statement. You gave her a firm nod of approval, solidifying the plan without further convincing. </p><p>. . . . . . </p><p>Before long, you were standing outside of Pansy's dorm. You lifted a hesitant fist to the door, but before you could knock, Pansy was already pulling you in with a flourish. You let out a breath of surprise before collapsing into easy laughter with your new friend.</p><p>"Hello to you too," you giggled. You took a moment to observe her dorm. She must've shooed off her roommates before you had arrived, two of the three beds littered in a pile of haphazard duvets and pillows. You laughed at the thought, two girls scrambling off under Pansy's hard stare. You knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of her anger.</p><p>"Now," Pansy led you to the only made bed, sitting you down on its edge. "I'm gonna need you to agree to something, but I can't tell you what."</p><p>That was certainly a statement. "How can agree to something without knowing what is?" You shot her a cheeky grin.</p><p>"Look," she was all business now. "I've got enough dresses to clothe the entire house elf population of this castle twice over and I doubt you brought your party clothes to school." You had to admit, Pansy had a point. "Let me make you over," she concluded. </p><p>There was really no good reason to say no. If anything, you couldn't remember the last time you were all dolled up, let alone the one doing the dolling up. It was settled then. </p><p>"I would be forever grateful," you conceded.</p><p>With that, Pansy shooed you off into the bathroom to shower so she could do your hair from scratch. In the meantime, she readied herself in the bedroom. You could hear the roar of a hairdryer from under the shower head, admiring the oasis of hair products and face masks that littered her every shelf. </p><p>Fifteen minutes later and you were walking back into the dorm, clinging to a borrowed robe. You were immediately set at ease by how effortlessly beautiful Pansy looked, her sleek black hair a perfect match for the busty black dress she had chosen for herself. A dark red lip and cat eye finished off her look.</p><p>"Daaaaamn," you gave her a dramatic once over. There was a moment of silence as you bit back a laugh. "You look sexy as fuck!" </p><p>Pansy bent over in laughter, patting away tears from the corners of her eye after gathering her composure. "Sit your ass down and I'll have you looking just as sexy."</p><p>Despite a rough start to this friendship, you found that you could trust Pansy. She told everything exactly as it was, explaining which blush placements best suited your features, where you should be parting your hair, how to enchant heels to make them as comfy as possible. The way she bit out her advice, rather than softening the blow, was oddly endearing. </p><p>As the minutes passed, the two of you could hear music bleeding through the walls. Blasting, really, but on the occasions that you both recognized the tune, you would break out in song and dance, laughing your way through the brief interludes of air guitar or bass drops. </p><p>Nearing the end, Pansy did the reveal as if you were in a cliched muggle movie, bringing you the mirror as if you hadn't been staring at your reflection for the past hour. If you had been getting ready alone, you would've thought the two of you were overdressed, but the raging music told you all that needed to know about the nature of this particular party. </p><p>The two of you descended the stairs in tandem. There were no cinematic jerks of heads, no boys lining up to ogle you, but you did, in fact, catch Malfoy's eye from across the room. He was in the middle of slugging back a shot of red liquid when his eyes met yours. They seemed to dance between you and Pansy, eventually resolving to take another shot altogether. You laughed, returning your gaze to the Common Room.</p><p>There were people filtering in at amazing speeds. It took you a moment to realize that the door remained firmly shut. It was the wall that was enchanted, allowing people to pass straight through as if they were ghosts. Innovative. You guessed that this way the Common Room password wouldn't be leaked to the other houses.</p><p>You lingered by Pansy's side, unsure of what to do. You watched as she pulled people into her orbit, introducing you after every hello, conversing for a bit, and finally depositing them by your side to allow you your own introductions. Soon enough, a circle of people formed around Pansy. It was fascinating, the way she attracted people. You could see you weren't the only one that had fallen to her charms.</p><p>Eventually, the convenient crowd of people gave way to games. Everyone threw in their suggestions, a couple being outwardly rejected. Like puzzles. Who the fuck suggested puzzles? Either way, it seemed that the mob had settled on truth or dare after a few more moments of deliberation. Not wanting to leave Pansy's side just yet, you decided to join. </p><p>There were significantly more Gryffindors participating that you had initially anticipated, but it did make sense. Courage was in their nature after all. Stupidity a close runner up. And to nobodies surprise, the Gryffindors started passing around a bottle of fire whiskey to share amongst the group. You had to admit, the social lubricant wasn't a bad idea. </p><p>Those participating formed a circle, cramming in knee to knee. Across the way, you spotted two red headed boys, both dressed in red and yellow. Those must've been the twins Pansy was talking about earlier. Ron's brothers. They were a riotous pair, it would soon come to conclude, fueling the game by adding their own twists onto other people's dares of offering up the scant piece of gossip to guide the truths to their most scandalous ends. You were relieved that they didn't know of you, and therefore, hopefully at least, they had no dirt.</p><p>A few more rounds and it was finally your turn. You must've been visibly nervous as you felt the cool glass of a bottle being pressed into your hand. Thanking the person to your left, you took a quick gulp of the liquid courage, resolving to pass it off to Pansy at your right once satisfied with the growing warmth in your chest.</p><p>"Truth or dare," she asked you, taking a swig herself. </p><p>"Truth."</p><p>"Laaaaame," she slurred the word, taking a notable pause to think up your torture. "Tell us about this mysterious Ilvermorny past of yours. Nobody knows why you transferred in the first place."</p><p>Your stomach dropped. You could tell this was her going easy on you, but there was no way she could know that that was the single worst question she could have asked. You felt your face go red, knowing you had no other choice but to bail. </p><p>"Dare," you changed your answer. Pansy quirked a curious brow, surprised that you felt it necessary to dodge such a harmless truth. Especially after the myriad of infinitely more embarrassing stories that had been divulged mere minutes prior. The circle fell into hushed whispers, confused and a little annoyed by your change of heart. The intrigue of mystery left them, however, gracious, deciding collectively to give the "new girl" a pass. </p><p>Pansy sat thinking for a while longer. She took another swig from the bottle. Then another. And another. Before long, the circle realized she wasn't going to be stopping any time soon, chugging with an unstoppable determination. Her lips released the bottle with a gasp as she finished off the final drop. There were protests from every which way.</p><p>"Oh, shut up," Pansy laughed. She snapped at a bystander. You glanced up to find Malfoy on the outskirts of the game, watching with a smile, but certainly not participating. "Grab us another one, would you?" She shot off the command as if it were the most natural solution. Obediently, Malfoy ducked out in search of a new bottle, satiating the drunken crowd upon his return. </p><p>Now that that was all settled, Pansy turned the attention back onto her. She produced the empty bottle with a flourish, pressing it back into your palm. </p><p>"Spin the bottle," she looked downright devilish. There was a certain fire in her eyes as they flicked upward. You followed her glance to find Malfoy, once again observing from the sidelines. "Kiss whoever it lands on." She said those last words almost encouragingly. </p><p>You wondered if this was her attempt at remedying a broken heart. What she didn't know was that you were far from heart broken. Not from Malfoy, at least. You tightened your grasp on the bottle, a strange determination falling over your actions.</p><p>"Gender?"</p><p>"Up to you," she smiled. </p><p>You re-positioned, sitting on your knees for better reach. The nerves dissolved, transforming into an almost fiery glee as you placed the bottle at the exact center of the circle. That was probably the alcohol talking, but all the same, you had a new reputation to uphold. Now that you were the "mysterious new girl," you had to give them something else to talk about before they started asking more questions. Why hadn't you answered the easiest truth of the game?</p><p>You surveyed the circle. There were very few people you recognized. Around half were Slytherin, the rest overeager Gryffindors. You must've looked scared, or at the very least, concerned, because upon catching the eye of one of the twins, he shot you a reassuring wink. You didn't know his name, but you smiled at the gesture, winking back. </p><p>From the corner of your eye, you watched with shock as Malfoy cut through the crowd, biting out what could only be rude remarks to some red clad boys before dropping into the circle next to an nameless Slytherin. Your face grew hotter. You felt Pansy stiffen to your right. You could tell she was trying to silently communicate something fierce to Malfoy from across the circle, but he avoided her eyes, choosing to fiddle with his rings. </p><p>With new resolve, you spun.</p><p>You might have noticed the crowd cheering, but you were too caught up in a silent mantra. With each fervent pound of your heart you repeated not Malfoy. Not so soon after. You needed time to think. Detach. Talk. Anyone put Malfoy. </p><p>You watched on in horror as the bottle slowed. It was nearing in on the very boy you hoped, prayed it wouldn't. You could tell that Pansy was screaming the same no!  in her head as you, her shoulders tensing further.</p><p>Oddly enough, your wish was granted. A rouge ping-pong ball shot out from outside the action, bouncing into the circle, and finally, finally skewing the bottle so that it almost impossibly landed four people to Malfoy's right. </p><p>Your face immediately broke into a smile of relief, beaming at Pansy, asking silently if the spin was valid. You watched as her eyes slid past you and to the person the bottle had landed on. With a sly grin, she nodded. Having confirmed your fate, you allowed yourself to see, for the first time, who had ended up on the receiving end of your kiss. </p><p>Following Pansy's eyes revealed to you one of the twins. The one that had winked at you earlier. His brother was patting him on the back with a laugh, cheering on his twin. </p><p>"Attaboy, Fred!"</p><p>Fred. He had a name. You weren't entirely displeased by this turn of events, realizing that your smile never quite left after the initial shock of relief. </p><p>You finally met his eyes, quirking a brow as if to say You ready? He laughed openly, easing the tension significantly. </p><p>"Come on then, Y/N," he waved you towards him. </p><p>Your knees dug into the floor as you crawled to him from across the circle. You tugged the skirt of your dress downward, making sure you weren't entirely exposed. There were hoots and whistles all around. It seemed this kiss wasn't going to be a quiet affair. </p><p>Pausing in front of the boy, you took him in, fully, for the first time. There was a freckle just at the border of his lip and skin. His hair was slightly lighter than Ron's, an almost strawberry blond that just brushed the tops of his shoulders. His eyes were a warm brown, inviting, and almost...nervous? You breathed out a laugh. From everything that you had witnessed from tonight alone, you didn't realize that he had the capacity to be nervous. That you had the capacity to make him nervous. It made you feel almost in control. Almost.</p><p>You encircled your arms about his shoulders, clasping your hands at the base of his neck. You leaned closer.</p><p>"Are you okay with this?" you whispered so as not to be heard above the music. "I mean we don't know each other, I'd understand if-" </p><p>He pulled back, meeting you with a smile. "More than okay."</p><p>With that, he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your arms tightened around him. His responded immediately by cupping your face in his hands. He smiled against your mouth at first, but that soon gave way to a growing sense of urgency. </p><p>He met you, kiss after kiss. There was hardly time to come up for air, but you didn't mind. His tongue brushed your bottom lip and you melted into him with a quiet huff. Fred took this as permission to slide you into his lap. You gasped under your breath. </p><p>From that alone, you were inclined to deny Pansy's theory. There was no Slytherin in this boy. He was Gryffindor through and through. It was refreshing.</p><p>You giggled against his lips as he brought your legs into a straddling position. The crowd roared its approval. You shuffled, settling into a more comfortable position. Fred's breath hitched, hand flattening against your bare thigh. With a quick squeeze, his lips were back on yours with all the more fervor, all nips and sucks and long, firm kisses. </p><p>Your hand traveled up the base of his neck and into his hair by its own accord. You took a fistful. But before you could do much more, there was Pansy coming up behind you. Dragging you away from Fred by your arms, you could hear her mumble an apology. </p><p>You missed the warmth of his body on yours immediately. You sighed wistfully, cracking up as Fred gave you a cheeky wave the further you got. Pansy plopped you back into place with a huff.</p><p>"Enough of that. On with the game!" Within moments, the crowd had forgotten the entire ordeal, returning to its regular festivities. </p><p>You met Fred's eyes from across the circle. He had already been looking at you, a dopey grin decorating his reddened face. He shot you another wink, mouthing something akin to Call me with the accompanying hand motion.</p><p>You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the quirk of your own lips. </p><p>Glancing about the circle, you noticed for the first time that Malfoy was gone. You weren't sure when or why, but the spot that he had occupied no more than five minute ago had been filled by another Gryffindor, eager to join in on what had now become a messy game of spin the bottle. </p><p>Feeling suddenly sober, you nudged Pansy's shoulder. "Hey, I'm gonna call it a night," you half-shouted to be heard over the music.</p><p>"Okay, yeah," she shouted back, breaking off from another conversation. "Just one second, I'll walk up with you."</p><p>"No, no! You stay. You haven't had your fun just yet," you smiled at her suggestively. "I'm spent, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Pansy hesitated. Finally, giving into her desire, she gave you a nod.</p><p>With that, you headed back to your dorm, avoiding any students strewn out on the floor. The stairs were a challenge, but you took them one excruciating step at a time. You could tell Pansy's enchanted heels were taking the brunt of damage, but your ankles ached nonetheless. Before long, you were teetering back to your dorm, a single hand on the wall helping with balance. You watched your feet with intense focus.</p><p>Upon reaching what you had counted to be your dorm, you looked up. Standing no more than 6 feet away was Draco Malfoy. You stumbled back in surprise. </p><p>He met your eyes with clarity.</p><p>"Can we talk?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The way my fic didn't pass the Bechdel Test until this chapter. I'm so ashamed! Pansy's a bad bitch and you'll be seeing more of her in the future. </p><p>Thanks for your kudos and comments as always! They always make my day &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Scarves and Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ayyy catch me on that two day writing streak. I'm probably just a little overeager to get to backstory</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"How'd you get passed the gendered enchantments?"</p><p>He stilled for a moment, confused. His mouth opened and closed, searching for the words. "With enough people, we're usually able to get the enchantments down for small periods of time. During parties it's for...well...<i>mingling</i>."</p><p>"Oh." The word was quiet. "In that case, why are you outside my dorm?" Malfoy's face was unreadable, but there was flush to his skin that let you know he was drunk, or at the very least, tipsy. Was he a bold drunk? Or a quiet one? You wondered if he was going to bring <i>it</i> up. Could that be why he was stalking outside your dorm with a party raging mere moments away?</p><p>"I was reminded of the fact you oh so graciously donated that Longbottom's scarf to me when you started kissing that Gryffindor."</p><p><i>That Gryffindor</i>. You could scoff. If the twins were as infamous as Pansy made them out to be, then there was no way Malfoy hadn't purposefully evaded Fred's name. And you certainly didn't see what Neville's scarf had to do with any of this, though there was a stab of guilt at knowing you had so carelessly given that away which was not yours to give. </p><p>"And what? You thought to take advantage of the enchantment to bring me to your dorm for the scarf?" Despite biting out the words, you recognized that they could be interrupted suggestively. You let the question hang in the air, hoping Malfoy hadn't picked up on that particular note of your distress.</p><p>He quirked a brow. "Well I suppose we could do that, yeah."</p><p>His arm flexed in the air for a moment. Had he been reaching for your wrist? Surely not. He brought the hand down to wipe his palms against the expensive fabric of his trousers before turning towards the staircase. You kicked off Pansy's pair of heels by your dorm door, making a note to return them to her later before following Draco down the staircase. </p><p>Weaving through the haphazard crowd of drunks, the two of you started your ascent of the boy's staircase after a crude minute of having your body squeezed between walls of flesh. The soles of your feet turned sticky, having stepped in what could only have been a spilled drink. You prayed that it was only a spilled drink. </p><p>As you made your way up to the boys' dorms, you glanced over your shoulder, and into the crowd. No one seemed to be watching. Wait, no. You revised the statement. No one but Pansy seemed to be watching. You gave her a reassuring wave, unable to communicate the full extent of why you were willfully following Malfoy up to his room with anything other than the discomfort on your face. You saw her struggling to stand, coming to rescue you. Or rescue Malfoy? You weren't sure. Either way, you waved her back down with a small smile and a shake of your head.</p><p>Malfoy stopped in front of a double-breasted door. You wondered what he had done to deserve such a large room, but a glance at the four, rather than three, empty beds told you it was probably because they were housing an extra. </p><p>On further examination, however, you noticed that the final bed was either the property of an immaculate boy (something which you had failed to come across in all your years), or entirely uninhabited. The other beds were equally as empty, but had a lived-in quality to them. You were reminded that his dorm mates were probably downstairs getting shit-faced. <i>Oh to be shit-faced</i>. You were feeling significantly more sober within the confines of Malfoy's room, but the world still carried a faint, rosy tint.</p><p>Your thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of a drawer. Malfoy was crouched down, rummaging through a chest of winter accessories, hats, gloves, scarves. His eyes stayed fixed on his search, but his voice suddenly filled the room</p><p>"What's your deal with Gryffindors anyway?" There was a somewhat bitter ring to the question. You paused, revising your first thoughts, making sure your answer was as accurate as possible before responding.</p><p>"They're simple." His arms stilled, and you continued. "I don't have to work up the nerve to speak with them. It's just...easy."</p><p>"Are you saying Slytherins are intimidating?" He scoffed, his back still facing you.</p><p>"Well, yeah." Your voice was small, but firm. "I was a <i>Pukwudgie</i> back at Ilvermorny for Merlin's sake. I would be in Hufflepuff right now if that Hat wasn't on crack." Your laugh was bitter. You hadn't let yourself think about your Sorting until this very moment, but you could sense the licks of anger rising in your chest.</p><p>The room was silent but for the sound Malfoy's shuffling. After a minute, that too stopped. He turned carefully, producing the red and yellow scarf that you had undoubtly, though unintentionally, stolen from Neville. It didn't look too bad, but you could tell it had been shoved at the very bottom of Malfoy's drawer. The boy met your eyes, pressing the woolen fabric into your hands.</p><p>"What changed?" He whispered.</p><p>The words were familiar. You were brought back to your first day on Hogwarts grounds, the confusion, the anxiety, the fear. You were ushered away from the gathering crowd of students by a strange witch and an even stranger giant, grumbling hat in tow. Professor McGonagall, as she had introduced herself, explained the procedure, mentioning that you would not be sorted publicly due to the delicacy of your situation. </p><p>With that, she placed the leathery hat on your head.<br/>
It deliberated.</p><p>"A kind heart, but a brave one...You certainly have no issue speaking your mind...A healer at Ilvermorny, were you not? More so than the other students...Hmm yes, Pukwudgie." </p><p>The hat's sentences flowed into the other with zero sense of finality or beginning. You shifted in your chair, unnerved and feeling exposed. The Pukwudgie statue had simply chosen you back at Ilvermorny. There was no grand selection, no monologue of your profoundest values and qualities.</p><p>The hat interrupted your thoughts. But not quite. You could sense that its magic drew from your thoughts, but you couldn't be sure of which ones, where, how deep. Perhaps it knew of you that which was unknowable. </p><p>"But something has changed," it mused. "Yes, a great misfortune, and now a bitter heart...Your fight has not been that of bravery, but survival...And <i>my</i> have you survived...I know just the place for you, Deary."</p><p>The Witch and the Giant exchanged glances.</p><p>"Slytherin!" the hat cried.</p><p>"It's as I thought," the Giant murmured to the Witch. She gave him a sharp nod.</p><p>With that, McGonagall sent you to your new dorm without dinner. Probably to unpack your bags and trauma without the curious eyes of the Hogwarts' student body. </p><p>You felt a hand at your shoulder. Malfoy. Draco. You blinked away the film of moisture that had collected on your eyes.</p><p>"What changed?" He asked again, softer.</p><p>"My Great Aunt died." The words were little more than a whisper. You gripped the scarf tightly, feeling almost dizzy with emotion. You shouldn't have gone this long without thinking about it. Exposure turned to bitterness. Isolation turned to grief. And now, you were wallowing in grief for a women who was bound to die sooner or later. She had stuck it out, for you, until she could no longer. It didn't make you miss her any less.</p><p>You continued with shaky breaths. "She was the only wizard family I had left. My parents died when I was young. My mother, suicide. Father, heartache. And then last year I lost the last person who knew me, who was <i>allowed</i> to know me inside and out without drawing the fury of MACUSA's magical-secrecy laws down on us."</p><p>Malfoy took a step closer. "What happened?"</p><p>You sighed. "Old age. She lived a long and relatively peaceful 143 years, but she was never meant to be a parent. I don't fault her for...giving up." Your Great Aunt was a sturdy women with a grip that could smother stone. Coupled with the lineage on your mother's side, you knew she had at least another fifty years in her. But there was a sadness that weighed her bones--like a bowstring, it drew her back only as far as it could launch her. Too many years of hitting the outer rings, and poof, she was gone.</p><p>"Did you say there was Muggle family you could've stayed with?" You could sense there was a weight to the question. You weren't sure why.</p><p>"In theory," you let out a breath. "But the Council of Wizarding Education ruled that it would be "less disruptive" if I were to get a fresh start at a new wizarding school. So here I am," you spread your arms pathetically. "Tada."</p><p>"Maybe it was for the best." His face was back to that unreadable stoicism. "At least you're not living with Muggles."</p><p>You shot him a look of disbelief. "Is that what you got from tragic back story? Muggles? Muggles aren't really the issue here, are they?" You could sense that your voice was rising without your will or thought, but you couldn't stop. </p><p>"That's another thing about Slytherins," you poked a single finger to his chest. "Head up your asses. No sense of anything outside this biggoted world around you. Did you know that Ilvermorny is run  on Native American magic? Do you think we care about, let along keep track of what percent No-Maj everyone is? Of course not! They deal with enough of that blood quantum bullshit from the U.S. Government," your breaths were heaving. You felt light-headed. Taking small backward steps, you took a seat on the nearest bed you could find.</p><p>"You know that's not what I meant--"</p><p>"Oh really?" You interrupted. "America might have shitty ass late-stage capitalism, but at least we don't have to deal with this aristocratic BULLSHIT!"</p><p>You realized you were rambling. Angry, drunk, and rambling. Never a good combination. You needed to get out of there before you caused more damage. Clearly the emotions were running high, and you were not in a state to regulate the inflow of unwelcome memories and tensions that Malfoy's stupidity was drawing out of you.</p><p>You lifted from the bed and bee-lined for the door. </p><p>"See you Thursday," Malfoy called out to your back.</p><p>Tightening your grip on the door handle, you let yourself out. In that moment, you craved not the warmth of fire whiskey, but the cool taste of Sleeping Draught on your tongue. You booked it to the stash you kept in your dorm for moments like these.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed! Bold of me to assume that the wizarding world in America would be any less racist than its UK counterpart, I know. For plots sake!</p><p>Otherwise, I've decided it might be beneficial for me to have an actual writing schedule. I'm hoping to start posting Sundays with any bonus chapters throughout the week. Kudos and comments appreciated as always! I love hearing what you guys have to say &lt;333</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Amortentia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well. The Sleeping Draught certainly worked. The second the cool liquid touched your lips, you had surrendered to the realm of dreams. But that was the very issue. Dreams. Perhaps next time you would try brewing the Potion for Dreamless Sleep, because your rest was anything but restful.</p><p>There were recurring people. Your parents, for one, would appear in dreams with such startling clarity that it was hard to believe that the last time you had ever seen them was at five years old. They were hardly frozen in time either, your father sprouting gray stubble from his chin, your mother's freckles looking somewhat more like sun spots. Had your subconscious filled in the blanks? Is this what they would've looked like if they hadn't passed?</p><p>Even more strangely, your Great Aunt had never appeared in a dream, to your memory. In waking life, you could conjure an image of her in your mind fairly quickly. But the edges were starting to blur. Now that you thought about it, you could hardly remember if she had had blue or brown eyes. Green, maybe?</p><p>There were only your mother's warm hugs and your fathers kind eyes. You theorized that your brain was protecting you--isolating the most recent trauma you'd experienced from your sleep and supplementing it with the love of your parents. Certainly any minute differences in your dream parents to your actual parents would be difficult to distinguish, making it easier to take comfort in their presence.</p><p>When you awoke on Monday, it was to blinding sunlight and a faint headache. You rolled over in bed with a groan, hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep before deciding that getting ready was preferable to another dream. You readied yourself for first hour Potions with one Draco Malfoy. Luckily, Pansy had agreed to grab breakfast with you beforehand. You had some explaining that you had wanted to get out of the way. You made sure to grab Neville's scarf from your door handle before heading to the Great Hall.</p><p>You caught sight of the back of Pansy's head. "Hey, Pansy, wait up!" you called out from the entrance of the Dining Hall. She was already schlepping off the leftovers of her breakfast into a bin. Glancing at the clock, you realized how little time there was before the start of class. You sprinted up to her.</p><p>"Hey, Pans!"</p><p>She jumped in shock. She stared at you, incredulously, a hand clutching at her chest. "Merlin! Don't do that!" You couldn't help but laugh.</p><p>"Sorry, sorry. I see you're finishing up. Let me grab something and we can start heading to Potions." She agreed with a faint nod, returning to her tidying. You surveyed the Hall briefly before deciding on a banana located a table away. Quickly retrieving your minimal breakfast, you returned to Pansy. She seemed significantly happier when she didn't have the wits scared out of her.</p><p>The two of you took to the hall, making your way back towards the dungeons. There was an easy silence, but you could tell Pansy was itching to ask something by the way she kept shooting you those side-long glances. You settled to break the ice.</p><p>But before you could-- "So what happened with Draco on Saturday?" That's right, you thought. She's a Slytherin. <i>Ask the questions you want, get the answers you need.</i> Luckily, you were willing to oblige.</p><p>"Wellll," you produced Neville's scarf from your school bag, showing it to Pansy.</p><p>"Well what? That's a scarf."</p><p>"Exactly. I, uh, I may have taken Neville's scarf by accident and from there it went into Malfoy's possession. We were just grabbing it from his room." You were careful to exclude the interaction where you had divulged your deepest fears and traumas to Malfoy. You had regretted telling him the second the world "Muggle" came out of his mouth. You knew better now. And hopefully, Pansy had been too drunk after that bottle of Fire Whiskey to remember a certain truth she had asked you during the game.</p><p>Pansy squinted suspiciously. "Why exactly did Draco have Longbottom's scarf?"</p><p>You could feel your face growing hotter. "Nothing really. I was joking that he looked better in red and kind just...put it on him." You could see the face Pansy was making. "Okay! Dumb joke, my bad. But to be fair, the Gryffindors were telling me about the rivalry and I thought it was funny, alright?" You could feel yourself getting defensive.</p><p>Pansy was quiet after that. There was something else she wanted to say, you were sure of it, but she was holding back. You couldn't be sure what or why, but decided it was best to keep to easy conversation until the two of you made it to Potions.</p><p>At the door of the Potions classroom, there was a line of people. As the two of you passed through the door, you could finally see that students were depositing their Amortentia essays into a cauldron on Snape's desk. You grabbed yours from your bag. Depositing it into the cauldron, you were glad to have the memories that parchment held disposed of.</p><p>Speaking of, you caught Malfoy's eyes, already at your shared table. A series of unlabeled bottles were fanned across the desk. For a moment, you wondered if he had put them there, but a look about the classroom told you that everyone's table was set up with an identical arrangement.</p><p>You make your way to the tables, pushing towards the back of the classroom. Malfoy looks as if he's about to say something, but you pass him with little more than a blank stare. Booking it towards Neville, you stop in front of his desk. He looks up with a small smile.</p><p>"Hi, Y/N. What brings you to my splendid table?" You hadn't pinned Neville for being a sarcastic person upon first meeting him, but over the past few shared dinners, you could tell he had a somewhat bitter sense of humor. You smiled, producing the red scarf from your bag.</p><p>"Ah well, thought you needed something to keep you warm with all the mouth-breathers back here." There was no doubt that Snape put his, uh, less successful students in the back of the class, and graciously, Neville laughed along. He turned the scarf over in his hands. Softer, you spoke again: "I'm sorry. I should've returned it sooner. Shouldn't have taken it in the first place, really. And as an apology..." you dipped back into your school bag to reveal a box of chocolate frogs. You felt that the candy was somewhat of a universal favorite amongst Wizarding England, and you were glad to see Neville's face light up.</p><p>Neville looked up from the pile forming on his desk a bashful smile. "Well, thank you for thinking of me at all. The chocolate really wasn't necessary, but Merlin is it appreciated."</p><p>In that moment, you were so happy to have Neville as your friend. Simple, easy, uncomplicated. It felt nice to not have to walk on eggshells.

You nudged his shoulder playfully. "Alright, back to work Longbottom!" You snapped the words out in a terrible Snape impression before heading to your table. You would've lingered for as long as possible if you didn't know Snape was almost always three minutes late to class. You had thirty seconds.</p><p>Right on schedule, Snape entered with the usual flourish of robes. Unusual, however, was that he started writing on the board immediately. Ignoring your curious stares, the class watched as Snape scribbled in his angular way: <i>Produce one vial of Amortentia by the end of class. Write your observations for collection.</i> His verbal instructions were equally as short. "Today you will not be tested on your ability to brew Amortentia, but on your ability to follow directions. Begin."</p><p>The class ignited in quiet anxiety. Brewing Amortentia was a laborious process in itself. Snape's nebulous instruction did little to instill confidence in his students.</p><p>Draco was flipping through the textbook as you readied the cauldron. You couldn't risk a bad grade on this assignment. On top of the general difficulty of the task, you needed to prove yourself to Snape as quickly as possible. The faster you appeared to improve, the faster you could go back to being Neville's Potions partner and end your "tutoring" sessions with Draco.</p><p>Expelling any lingering anxiety with a deep breath, you turned to Malfoy's already open textbook, skimming the page. The top read "Amortentia," but the closer you looked, the faster you realized that the ingredient names had an odd blur to them.</p><p>You rubbed your eyes. Then the paper. You shot Draco a look. He returned your confusion. It was as if a layer of frosted glass had been placed over the exact words you needed to know to execute the correct order of ingredients.</p><p>You kept your eyes on the paper. "Now what?"</p><p>Malfoy performed a similar rubbing of eyes and paper before speaking. "Maybe we're supposed to uncensor the words first? Do you know what charm's on the textbook?"</p><p>You shook your head. This was ridiculous. You looked about the room to see if they could clue you in on the solution, but there was a similar look of confusion on nearly every face. You resolved to examine the bottles--the other oddity. Picking up the first, you rotated it in view of Malfoy's eyes. The bottles were made of an opaque glass, no label in sight. You set it back down with a sigh.</p><p>"We're being tested on our ability to follow directions," Malfoy offered. He raised a hand, pointing to the board. "I ready a paper for our observations, but I don't know how helpful that'll be without something to observe."</p><p>Your ears perked up. "Snape did say directions, didn't he?" There was something there. "Definitely not instructions, right?"</p><p>"...Yes?"</p><p>"Well, if you have no better ideas, I say we start brewing using the textbook instruction and we'll just use the direction of the bottles for the order of ingredients."</p><p>Something seemed to register on Draco's face. "Oh, that's interesting," Malfoy scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Snape gave us written, verbal, and, I suppose you could call this, implied instruction. That had to be intentional."</p><p>You grinned, feeling more at ease. "Exactly."</p><p>The two of you worked in quiet harmony, following the instructions, reaching for and disposing of bottles in the direction they were first set up. Around step six you were starting to notice some repeats in the contents of bottles. Probably the result of not being able to refer to the ingredients by name and rather having to assume which to use based on position. It seemed a bit wasteful, but you were pleased by the progress of the potion. Draco took notes with each qualitative transformation of the Amortentia.</p><p>Though Malfoy seemed just as intent on the task at hand as yourself, you felt your self wondering, wandering. Why had he been outside your dorm Saturday? Why had he kissed you on Friday? Why had he kept the scarf on Tuesday? Maybe it was a test, like Snape's: You tried to sort the questions into written, verbal, and implied instruction, but it just led to more confusion. What was the product he was hoping for? The goal? You sighed to yourself. Why couldn't you be more like Pansy? <i>Ask the questions you want, get the answers you need.</i></p><p>Before long, the two of you were upon the final bottle. You handed it to Draco. He took it without protest, following the final procedure. You had yet to look at Malfoy's parchment of notes, deciding to slide it over to your end of the table and give them a read through. His handwriting was surprisingly tidy, flowing at a smooth 45 degree angle and connecting every letter.</p><p>Your own proficiency with quill had been stilted by the introduction of ball point pens in your second year at Ilvermorny. You felt bad ruining the notes with your exponentially different handwriting, but proceeded with drawing a simple table for final observations on the scent of the finalized potion. Dividing the parchment in two, you labelled the columns with your names.</p><p>The class had ten minutes before the warning bell and Snape was already stalking other tables for progress reports. Pressure on, you peaked into the cauldron as Malfoy stirred in the final ingredient. You noted the new mother-of-pearl sheen that the potion took on under the qualitative note portion of the parchment.</p><p>It hit you all at once. Your mind muddled with the strength of the potion's perfume. The scent was difficult to distinguish, rather shifting between several smells. Or maybe it was more of a layering effect? You jotted down the perfume.</p><p><i>Something akin to mint, grass, fresh laundry</i>. Your hand stilled. There was something distinctly human to the scent--like skin--but you thought it best to write down <i>cologne</i> instead. Your hesitation must've drawn Malfoy's attention as he ducked to check out what you had added. You pressed the quill back into Malfoy's hand as he continued reading.</p><p>"Mint, grass, laundry. Y/N, this could be anyone. And cologne could smell like anything. Who even wears cologne in fourth year," he scowled. Why he was taking your observations so seriously, you had no clue.</p><p>You almost wanted to laugh, choosing instead to set him at ease. "Malfoy, Amortentia doesn't smell like a specific person. It smells like things you're attracted to. And to that point, it's not a love potion either. Amortentia is an infatuation potion, but I can see how the name is misleading." You explained with a level tone.</p><p>There was a breeze behind the two of you. Your hairs stood on end instinctually. You turned to meet Snape's shining eyes. "Very astute explanation Miss Y/L/N. That is exactly correct," He turned away from you, "As for you Mr. Malfoy, I fear what I'll find in your essay if any of that information came as a surprise to you."</p><p>"No, sorry Professor, it's just the scent--it can be a bit distracting. I'm sure you'll find my essay satisfactory, Professor. I helped Y/N with hers, after all."</p><p>You shot him a look. Helped, did he? More like watched over your shoulder as you wrote before...well...You supposed he had helped with something else. Malfoy caught your eye with a smirk.</p><p>"If that is the case, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you cast <i>nasum obstructionum<i> before losing any more of your sense to this rather," Snape paused, peering into the cauldron, "satisfactorily brewed Amortentia." You beamed, knowing Snape's "satisfactories" were something akin to "excellent."</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>You started vialling the potion the second Snape had stalked off to criticize another table. Vialling took all your attention, making it difficult to catch watch Malfoy was scribbling on the parchment in relation to his olfactory observations. Only on your third vial, Malfoy was already up and heading to Snape's desk to turn in the note page. You almost stopped him, but thought better of it. Why should you care what he wrote?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Stoppering up your seventh vial, you labelled them each with their own set of initials--Y/I +DM--before setting them on Snape's evidently empty desk. There were no other submissions and there was only a minute until the end of class. In fact, as you looked about the classroom, there were no other vials in sight, only pairs of students taking turns dumping the contents of their cauldrons with sour looks.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A voice boomed throughout the room. "Finish up your tidying and take your seats. I have an announcement."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Kids shuffled back to their tables. Malfoy sat down to your right. You were all nervous for what Snape had to say.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Y/L/N were the only two successful students today. They have each earned Slytherin 20 points for their work. As for the rest of you," he let his scowl fall on each child in turn, "I am disappointed by your inability to follow directions. When you are brewing, will you always have the instructions in front of you?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A chorus of defeated 'No's.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Will you always have the convenience of labeled ingredients?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>You joined the chorus of 'No's this time. Malfoy stayed silent.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You will have to learn to take direction through all means: auditory, written, and contextual," You were happy to see that you and Malfoy had been almost spot on in your theorizing as to Snape's purpose for the lesson. "This will be our focus in these coming weeks." The bell rang. Snape's scowl deepened. "You are dismissed."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>You packed your materials with a waning sense of victory. Snape had complimented your work--at least, as close as one could get to a compliment from him--but he hadn't mentioned getting rid of the tutoring sessions. The thought of Thursday's steady approach left you with a growing sense of unease. And yet, you felt yourself wondering why Draco had cared so deeply about who could possibly be wearing cologne in Fourth Year.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>You left with little more than a look at Malfoy and an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Female Intuition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You weren't sure what to make of Potions, but Transfiguration went significantly smoother with Professor McGonagall even complimenting  your ability to keep a color's object consistent between transformations. You hadn't even known that was criteria for a good transformation, but you bristled with pride, nonetheless.</p>
<p>What you dreaded, however, was Divination class. Whereas Transfiguration was a mix of half Slytherin, half Hufflepuff, Divination was all Slytherin, all the time. You wondered how effectively you could hide from Malfoy with the lack of desks and chairs. Even partnering up for assignments was open to students due to Trelawney's insistence that children should not be minded as it dampened your auras (or something like that). Not that your aura was any of her business, but you supposed the sentiment was nice. Luckily, Pansy was your go-to partner, but even she seemed a little off this morning.</p>
<p>Upon lugging your way up to the Divination tower, the assault of smoky incense on your senses was immediate. Resisting a sneeze, you joined the crowd of students scavenging through the stack of rugs and cushions for the lesson. You had to admit, the Divination tower had become somewhat of a safe haven in your first week of school. There was always something to occupy your nose and eyes, the quiet chatter of students laying a background for Trelawney's quizzical ambience.</p>
<p>On rainy days, Trelawney would shroud the room in thick velvet curtains, lighting what seemed to be the thousands of candles whose wax perpetually drooped over ever precipice and shelf of the classroom. Or on the sunny days, like today, she'd let warm light flood the tower, painting every surface some shade of the colored glass that she strung from the ceiling. Even the layer upon layer of oriental rugs were a preferable cushion to the cold stone that decorated the rest of the castle's floors.</p>
<p>Deciding upon a rounded cushion from the stack, you caught Pansy's eyes above the crowd of students. You raised a brow. She nodded. Partners, as usual. The two of you made your way to a neat intersection of carpet by a stout desk and began the usual tea-making ritual that Trelawney insisted be the precursor to each lesson in hopes of honing our fortune-telling energies.</p>
<p>The two of you sipped quietly as Trelawney drew the student's attentions to the front of the class. "Today, boys and girls, we will be practicing our <i>intuition</i>." She said the last word with a hush, making sure that we were listening closely to receive proper instruction. "After the tea leaf readings, I will have you and your partner take turns telling truths and lies while the other guesses as to the statement's validity. Please keep tallys of how many you get right. The student with the most correct answers will come to me for a reward after class." Trelawney ignored any raised hands and continued. "Girls, you might find this to be an easy lesson. The female intuition is a powerful thing, so make sure not to pose statements you would find yourself regretting." With that, she shooed the less than enthusiastic students off to work, making her rounds and spying in on the tea leaf readings, giving the odd pointer. </p>
<p>Both you and Pansy choked down the rest of your teas to get the readings out of the way. You gladly took Pansy's teacup into your hands, still warm from the hot liquid, handling its contents with a performative delicacy. Holding the mug up to the light, you could make out a faintly heart-looking blob amongst the leaves. Easy peasy, you thought with a smile. Hearts were the easiest symbol to interpret.</p>
<p>"My dearest Pansy," you began, loading your voice with the same husky mystery that Trelawney was prone to taking on. "It seems a past lover might be making his way back into your life." You wiggled your brows with a faint laugh. The laugh quickly died on your tongue, realizing that Pansy had not joined in. Observing as she stilled, you proceeded to place her teacup back into its ceramic dish with a quiet clink.</p>
<p>Pansy took your cup into her hands, barely looking at the pattern of leaves before spouting some bullshit about good grades in your future. You were almost disappointed, hoping she would pick up on the way you had pushed the leaves into a vaguely giraffe-like shape for her. Not a giggle. You wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she was staring at something just beyond your shoulder, avoiding your questioning eyes. You glanced backwards only to be met with the sight of Malfoy's silver hair. Luckily, his back was towards the both of you.</p>
<p>Choosing to ignore whatever <i>that</i> was, you grabbed a parchment from your bag, separating it into two sections for you and Pansy to keep track of your correct guesses. Guess truly was the right word for this situation. Female intuition your ass, the longer you were at Hogwarts, the more you realized just how little you knew about anything.</p>
<p>"I have foot fungus," you say out of the blue, hoping to grab Pansy attention.</p>
<p>Her eyes jerked upward, a crude smile on her face. "What??"</p>
<p>Your lips waver into a smile, but you did your best to school your features into neutrality. "Truth...or lie?"</p>
<p>Her eyes were a warm amber as they narrowed in on you. You took notice of the way light danced on her thick, dark eyelashes, casting beams of shadow down her face as they fluttered in amusement, significantly less sour than mere moments before. </p>
<p>"In this very moment, or just, like, ever?" She inquired. </p>
<p>You took a moment to consider, rephrasing. "If you were to take off my shoes this very moment, you would find a hunk of nasty green fungus climbing up my big toe."</p>
<p>Pansy huffed out a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that's not how foot fungi work, so I'm gonna go with LIE!"</p>
<p>You let out a gasp of mock surprise. "How did you know?"</p>
<p>There was a sincere twinkle in her eyes as they met yours. She seemed significantly more at ease, settling back into her cushion as she pulled her hair back into a sleek ponytail. She paused for a moment, considering her statement while marking down a correct answer for herself on the parchment. </p>
<p>She fixed you with a mischievous look. "I know what Malfoy wrote down in Potions today."</p>
<p>The statement took you by surprised, but your interest was certainly piqued. You knew exactly what she was referring to as well--what he smelled in the Amortentia. You needed more information.</p>
<p>"Actually saw the paper, or have an idea of what he wrote," you questioned.</p>
<p>"Looked in the cauldron after class and saw what he wrote," she clarified. There was a serious quality to her voice. You were wondering if this had anything to do with why she kept shooting glances at the back of Malfoy's head.</p>
<p>"...true?"</p>
<p>Pansy nodded, looking grim. Strange to say the least. Why had she felt the need to peek into the turn-in cauldron, and why did she look so concerned about the result? You marked down a correct answer for yourself on the parchment, pondering what your follow-up statement could possibly be.</p>
<p>"Malfoy smelled Thestral dung and is actually very much in love with Hagrid," you supplied.</p>
<p>Pansy barked out a laugh, fingering a ring on her pinky. "For Hagrid's sake, lie."</p>
<p>She took her time marking down another tally for her correct answer. You wondered if she was going to move on from this line of questioning or not. You had to admit that you were more than interested in what Malfoy had smelled in that Amortentia, especially with the way he interrogated <i>your</i> scent-observations, and even more so for the fact that he smuggled off the note sheet for turn-in without your consent. Had he been hiding his answers after all?  </p>
<p>She started, carefully: "From my memory, he wrote rain, fire whiskey, fresh brewed coffee, skin," Pansy made a face at that last one, but your heart dropped. Sunk straight through to your stomach. She continued, "and...pansies." You didn't think that list could have contained anymore surprises, but Pansy had proved you wrong. 

You fixed your friend with a careful look. The list seemed normal enough. Ignoring the skin comment, the most important scent--the one you were sure Pansy wanted to talk about the most--was the last one. She could be lying. You gave her a side-long glance. Did she want it to be true? </p>
<p>There would be no reason for her to share this information if it weren't. You took in an anticipatory breath. "True?"</p>
<p>Pansy nodded. That same strange feeling in your stomach from Potions came back--as if your heart were drowning in acid--but you pushed it away, focused on being a good friend. You leaned towards her and she followed suit, much like one of your lunch room gossip sessions. It seemed to put her at ease. You could tell that there was a hopefulness in Pansy's eyes, but you couldn't be too sure what it pertained to.</p>
<p>You whispered, dropping the lesson structure entirely to get at the heart of this conversation. "And how do we feel about that?" </p>
<p>Her eyes fixated on the same spot passed your shoulder. She bit her lip with a sigh. "I don't know. I've been meaning to tell you since the bleachers--that warning I gave you about Draco."</p>
<p>"Yes?" You prompted.</p>
<p>"Well, I know first hand how he can be. I had a bit of an, uh well, I guess you could say an obsession with Draco First Year. Close families, and all that," she waved her hand dismissively, as if were mere circumstance that she had caught feelings. "We've been on and off since Second Year because he always had his eyes on other girls and now...well...I don't know where we stand, to be frank. But when I saw that he smelled <i>pansies</i> in the Amortentia, there was hope? I guess? That maybe there was something there after all. That maybe the reason he kept coming back wasn't that I would always be second place," her gaze dipped to her hands. Slowly, she brought her eyes up to meet yours. "I don't know, what do you think," she looked up at you, expectant. </p>
<p>There was so much vulnerability in her eyes--a pained arch to her brow. What to think indeed. You were at a loss for words. How had Malfoy not told you? How had no one told you, in fact? You hadn't just slept with a fuckboy, but what was quickly becoming your closest friend's ex. Kinda. Maybe? This was all rather confusing. </p>
<p>And then there was the curious fact of Malfoy listing skin as one of the scents he found attractive. Strange, but considering how you had been pondering whether to write it as well, you had to wonder if he had meant the same inexplicable scent that you had. It wasn't skin--not really. Just a humanness, a warmth--sweat and tears and excitement.</p>
<p>Oh shit. </p>
<p>Had you guys been smelling <i>sex</i> in your Amortenia? You almost wanted to laugh. You wanted to dismiss the thought immediately, but when you thought about it...If you focused on when you had smelled that scent in the past, it had been with your first boyfriend back at Ilvermorny, Nathaniel Kelly. Your Third Year hook up, Benjamin Kerr. And now...Draco fucking Malfoy. If you thought hard enough, you could even add Fred Weasely to the mix. That scent was wrapped up in all your memories of warm lips--of messy hair and burning limbs.</p>
<p>But did it really matter? Amortentia simply smelled like things you were attracted to. Not people. And if you were attracted to sex, well hot damn, who wasn't? Certainly not Malfoy, as it turned out. </p>
<p>But what to tell Pansy about all this. You wondered if she actually did smell like pansies, or if it was the simple association that Malfoy found attractive? Either way, they had an attachment of some sort, and you were determined to stay out of it, no matter what Pansy decided.</p>
<p>Realizing how long the silence had lingered between the two of you, you chose to answer as simply as possible. "Pansy, I could never know the extent of your relationship. I think, for both your sakes, it might be best to sit down and have a chat about what exactly it is you guys want from each other. Closure, or a new beginning." </p>
<p>She considered. A smile-- "I think you might have a point. I can only speculate about his Amortentia for so long," she glanced between you and Malfoy with a sigh. You were suddenly anxious. "What do you think about having a mediator? For the conversation, that is?"</p>
<p>You were surprised. "I-I mean sure! If the two of you are comfortable with that, I don't see the harm in it." You shrugged. You were scared for a moment that she might ask about the nature of yours and Malfoys relationship again. You were glad that wasn't the case.</p>
<p>"Great," she beamed. "How about you?"</p>
<p>"Me?!"</p>
<p>"Yeah! I mean, I don't exactly have many gal pals, and I doubt Blaise or Theo are gonna want to hear about mine and Draco's issues. And like you said! You don't know the extent of our relationship. You'll be our fresh eyes," she met you with a pleading stare. "What do you say?"</p>
<p>If you could pick any moment in which to die, it would be today, in this for very moment. You could imagine it now, you skin shriveling away from your bones as you disintegrate right before Pansy's eyes. You prayed for the all the gods above to smite you down in an act of divine intervention. Anything to not have to agree to Pansy's plea. Merlin, why praise your name if you don't help for shit??</p>
<p>But maybe, just maybe, they did hear. Because at that very moment, Sybil Life-Saver Trelawney, clinking bangles and all, stalked in front of your table. "My! Pansy, what a lovely shade of pink your aura is looking today. And Y/N, oh dear, that blue is a bit concerning, but it compliments your skin tone brilliantly. Now, how are our intuitions feeling today?"</p>
<p>Not great, thank you very much.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another Sunday update! So uhhh this is story is taking a turn I also didn't know it would be taking. Can you tell I'm writing by the seat of pants? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and feedback is appreciated as always &lt;3</p>
<p>P.S. The homies agree we stan Trelawney</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trelawney nearly sent you to Madam Pomfrey’s for the horrid, ogreish green palate of your aura, but after some assurance and a glance at yours and Pansy’s perfect intuition sheets, she let you off the hook. The rest of class passed in a foggy state. Not even lunch could stir your appetite nor attention. You could vaguely remember some announcement from Dumbledore. Something that prompted a myriad of groans from all sorts of students, but the common demographic of which included Quidditch players. You reminded yourself to ask Pansy about it later (if you weren’t still avoiding her in the near future) about the announcement. Something about schools, a competition, and...a ball?</p><p>Your days progressed sluggishly without the company of your near only friend. As it turned out, despite giving up on your attempts to avoid her (and the questions that might come with her company), Pansy was a busy girl in her own right, and a popular one at that. She could almost always be seen with Daphne Greengrass, her sister, Astoria, Blaise, or Theodore, or… Draco? </p><p>You wondered what that was like. Awkward? Or did they just ignore any history they had when they were around friends. Or could they really just be comfortably friendly after all this time? </p><p>Sometimes, when you would glance up from your plate of stacked ham and mash from your seat next to Neville, your eyes were drawn to them. You had to admit, they looked good together. Pansy’s ink-black hair and amber complexion a perfect complement to Draco’s pale elegance. Despite their looks, even you could tell they were cut from the same cloth. Always straight backs and quiet smiles and dangerous eyes. They had an orbit; A gravitational pull of which you yourself had been allowed entrance not too long ago.</p><p>Days passed without Pansy, the inevitably of Thursday always on your anxious horizon. You filled your hours with school and Neville and dreams.</p><p>That was another thing.</p><p>You could brew the Potion for Dreamless Sleep with your eyes closed. And yet your nights were undeniably full of dreams. Not the unicorns and rainbow kind either, but your parents. Always your parents. More recently these dreams existed behind a webby sort of film that made it difficult to follow the plot of their adventures. There was always a duel of some sort, bright flashes of red and green exerting all of their force to overcome some faceless opponent. You always awoke before you could find out who won. </p><p>The exhaustion was finally catching up to you by Thursday morning. You wondered if you could cancel on Draco. Or if he would cancel on you with a single look at your dark under eyes and haggard looking frame. You were easily distractible when tired and there was really nothing Malfoy could teach you that you didn’t already know. </p><p>It was with that thought that a figure sidled up beside you. A lazy swivel of the head revealed Pansy in all her put-together perfection. “Hello?”</p><p>“You look horrible.”</p><p>That stopped you dead in your tracks.</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“No seriously,” she grabbed your hand, guiding you to an alcove to better inspect your appearance. Her grimace deepened as she scanned your eyes. You were sure they were half-glazed, even as you bit out a smile.</p><p>“What can I say, you caught me first hour on a Thursday. Sounds about right,” you shrugged half heartedly. “Can we drop it?”</p><p>Pansy’s lips pressed firmly into a line as she nodded her head reluctantly. “Care of Magical Creatures, right? I’ll walk you.”</p><p>You were flattered enough that she had remembered what class you had that you allowed her passage. The two of you caught up after a couple of days out of the other’s company, supplementing conversation with the odd anecdote of Hogwarts life. As you came up on Hagrid’s hut, Pansy slowed considerably. You could tell there was something she wanted to say, something that you had distracted her from saying up until this point. You suspected what it might be.</p><p>“Out with it then,” you elbowed her out of silence. </p><p>She had the common decency to look sheepish. “Alright, well...you remember our conversation Monday, right?”</p><p>You nodded vaguely. “Which part?” You knew which part. But how to stall?</p><p>“The part where I still have feelings for Draco and he might still have feelings for me? That one?” You could see the anxiety in her face. Not to mention the way she spat out the words as if they might scathe her for holding onto them too long. You dreaded where this might lead, but you hated seeing Pansy like this more. </p><p>Several more students were filtering out of the castle and preparing for Hagrid’s lesson. The morning dew dampened your shoes, grounding your mind. This was your friend, and she was asking you for help. And despite yourself, you wanted to, no matter what it entailed. “Did you talk to him? About getting closure?”</p><p>Pansy’s neatly plucked brows pinched together. She reached for your hand, squeezing. “Not yet,” she whispered. Glancing up, you decided it was best to move this conversation elsewhere. With no mind to Hagrid or the other students, you grabbed Pansy more firmly and tailed it to a tree far from listening ears. </p><p>When you were sure that the two of you were out of sight, you pulled Pansy into a big hug. She fell into you immediately, allowing herself one breath before pulling back, composing herself. The more you came to know Slytherins, the easier it was to recognize when their strength was born of weakness or pride. You feared Pansy’s might be both. And that was a dangerous combination.</p><p>“Alright, what’s the delay here Pansy? You know I’m happy to mediate whenever you need.” Happy wasn’t exactly the right word here, far from it actually, but you resolved to use it nonetheless.</p><p>“It’s just--i-- What if I’m wrong?” You raised an eyebrow, imploring her to continue. “Who cares what he smelled in his Amortentia if he doesn’t even look at me the way he used to. Every time I sit next to him at lunch, my heart is racing. It takes everything in me not to grab his hand in the hallways, to not spring into his arms when I’m sad. And what if I set up this whole meeting for “closure” and I’m still not ready to let go? Then what?”</p><p>You weren’t sure if you had hidden your surprise well enough. Not surprise, not really. Your grief. Memories of the Quidditch pitch and that damned Amortentia essay came flooding back and you knew for certain now the damage you had done to Pansy without even knowing it. How would she look at you if she knew? How did you make this better? </p><p>You reasoned that it wasn’t a betrayal. You hadn’t even known Pansy yet! But that was unequivocally false, and you knew it. She had warned you, your first day. <i>Stay away</i> she had said, and you flew in the face of that command. Only now did you realize it wasn’t a command, but a plea. And you had betrayed that.</p><p>You had betrayed Pansy, and now you had to make it better. </p><p>The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them: “I could bring it up with him, if you want?” Pansy glanced up, questioning.</p><p>“How do you mean?”</p><p>“I mean,” you continued, still unsure, “that I have a tutoring session with him today. I’m sure I could slip it in there that you want to sit down and have a conversation. It would only take two seconds, and I don’t even have to mention that it was your idea, or that you even want to--”</p><p>It was Pansy’s arms around you this time. Even as you froze stock-still, her arms only tightened further. Eventually, your arms came up and around her back with a returning squeeze.</p><p>“It’s really nothing!” Your voice came out muffled from the strength of Pansy’s grip. </p><p>“No,” she squeezed you impossibly tighter, “It’s everything.” Finally, she pulled back, wiping a stray tear away with the back of her hand. Her anxiety was significantly lessened. It didn’t even matter that yours had increased ten-fold.</p><p>Not only would you have to endure a tutoring session with Malfoy mere hours from now, but you’d somehow have to ask him to join Pansy and yourself in perhaps the most awkward conversation of your lives. And it didn’t even matter. Because the look on Pansy’s face made it more than worth it.</p><p>“I’ll let you go now,” Pansy said with a soft smile. Her eyes weren’t as sharp as usual, but you let her leave with a wave and reassuring pat. </p><p>How in the world were you going to focus on flobberworms now?</p><p>…</p><p>7pm. You braced yourself at the doors of the Potions classroom. Were you first? Or would he be waiting within? </p><p>Your question was answered with a push of the door. Malfoy sat within, face composed as he bent over a scrap piece of paper scribbling something down while glancing between textbook and sheet. He had yet to notice your arrival, and you were glad for it. </p><p>The last time the two of you had spoken was in his dorm, drunk. At least you were. In truth, you were hoping he had been as well--that maybe, just maybe his distasteful outburst about the people you chose to associate with was the side effect of fire whiskey rather than prejudice. </p><p>In truth, you found <i>him</i> distasteful. His ego, his arrogance, his eyes, those hands--He glanced up from his dutiful scribbling. Your eyes met with hesitance. </p><p>It was easier to be mad at him when he was busy digging around in his dresser drawer with his back turned to you. Now, with the planes of his face carefully illuminated by the everlasting glow of Snape’s enchanted lanterns…</p><p>No.</p><p>You were here on a mission. And he was a mean and awful boy. What did Pansy possibly see in him, you thought bitterly as you made your way to his chosen table. </p><p>Malfoy’s eyes followed you as you arranged your work for the night. You took it upon yourself to treat these tutoring sessions as a free period from this point forward. Flipping through the potions textbook, you settled on the exercise sheet and short answer questions that Snape had assigned for that night. </p><p>The two of you carried on in silence, Malfoy returning almost immediately to his own work once realizing he would be receiving the silent treatment. You would say it was almost pleasant if it weren’t for the pressing question at the back of your mind. How in the world would you breach the topic of Pansy?</p><p>Eventually, you finished the Potions homework. You shut the textbook with a sigh, rifling through your bag for the Charms work. It was then that Malfoy decided to speak.</p><p>“I’m sorry, by the way.” </p><p>You glanced at him briefly before turning back to your bag. You spoke with your back turned to him. “Whatever for, Malfoy?” You could think of quite a few things that he had to be sorry for, in truth.</p><p>“I’m sorry you had to kiss that weasel.”</p><p>Your head snapped back to him, frustration evident in your face. It took you a moment to realize he meant Fred. “I’m sorry?”</p><p>“Oh you have nothing to apologize for.” You scoffed, readjusting to meet his eyes face on. Slamming the Charms textbook on the table, you chose to ignore him. Engaging in this would do you no good.</p><p>“I heard him bragging in the hallway,” Malfoy continued, despite your clear efforts to number your parchment in peace. “If you remember that ping-pong ball that ruined your spin, he was telling a group of Gryffindors about how he was the one behind it. Accio-ed it right to the bottle so that it would land on him.”</p><p>Your hand stilled. Malfoy continued.</p><p>“And of course he would. Gryffindors are already desperate, and weasels are as desperate as they get. Really I’m not surpri--”</p><p>“Shut. Up.” The words came out with so much venom that even you were choking on them. Your mind was spinning, your heart ready to beat out of your chest. </p><p>Malfoy had a shit-eating grin. “What? Not so chummy with the Gryffindors are we now?” </p><p>“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”</p><p>“No really, I don’t think you’re understanding me. I said--”</p><p>“MALFOY!” He quieted, looking around as if he was scared someone might’ve heard. Your hands were shaking. With fury or disgust or hurt, you weren’t sure, but you had been used. There was nothing more to it. </p><p>You immediately started packing your bags, Malfoy forgotten entirely. You were going to be sick. A bathroom. You needed to find a bathroom. Slinging your bag over a shoulder, you bolted forward. A hand at your wrist, however, kept you in place.</p><p>You swung around with a rage you hadn’t known you were capable of. “I think you’re the one that doesn’t understand so listen here,” you ripped your arm from his grasp. He replaced it with another as you tried your best to twist away from him. “I don’t know what kind of sick fuck takes joy in learning that I was sexually assaulted, but I’m gonna need you to fuck off.” This time his hand released of its own accord, as if you had burned him.</p><p>“What,” he hissed. His face crumpled with confusion. You weren’t about to wait around to explain the intricacies of consent to this idiot. You took your chance and ran. </p><p>Looking over your shoulder briefly, you bit out your only goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Malfoy.”  </p><p>The tears only came when you shut the bathroom stall door. What a fucking mess. Your skin boiled with regret. For Malfoy, for Fred, for Pansy. You caught your breath for a moment. No bile came. You stumbled out of the stall and out to the sinks.</p><p>The cold water stung as you scrubbed your face, your arms, your hands. You felt utterly gross and disgusting for more reasons than one and all you could think to do was chug more of that Dreamless Sleep and pretend none of this ever happened. Walking on unsteady feet, you staggered back out into the hall. Unseeing, you bee-lined towards the dungeons. But of course, nothing could be so easy.</p><p>A crash, and you were on you ass.</p><p>In a similar position was none other than Fred Weasely.</p><p>Fuck.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lol rip sorry about the month long hiatus. Hopefully I'm back in business. I missed this story, and hopefully you guys did too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Something to be Sorry for</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'm really bad at sitting on prewritten chapters so here you go! I'm already writing for a Sunday update as well.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Why are you here," you bit out.</p>
<p>Fred hopped back onto his feet, extending a hand to your crumpled form. Rejecting, you struggled to stand, rapidly swiping away the stray tears. It wasn't covert, but he didn't notice.</p>
<p>"I heard yelling. It's kind of my Bat Signal. I can't stay out of trouble if I tried," he said with a chuckle. You had no idea what he was on about. "Bat signal? Ya know--ah well, maybe you don't. My father was telling me about it--"</p>
<p>You were already walking the other way: "Leave me alone Weasley."</p>
<p>He moved quietly. With your back to him, you hadn't noticed his lithe frame inches away from you. He placed a careful hand at your shoulder. You flinched.</p>
<p>"Hey what's--" face to face with your swollen eyes, "wrong? Are you okay there, Y/L/N?"</p>
<p>His voice was soft but his touch burned. It was familiar in all the wrong ways.</p>
<p>You were back to that night. Frozen. There was that stupid freckle on his lip and that stupid ginger hair and those stupid, stupid eyes, <i>warm brown, inviting, and almost...nervous?</i></p>
<p>
  <i>You breathed out a laugh. From everything that you had witnessed from tonight alone, you didn't realize that he had the capacity to be nervous. That you had the capacity to make him nervous. It made you feel almost in control. Almost.</i>
</p>
<p>You hadn't been in control. Not for a second. All of the circumstances that had led you to that point were manufactured by the very boy who had the gall to pretend to be nervous.</p>
<p><i>"Are you okay with this?"</i> You had whispered.</p>
<p>And he had smiled: <i>"More than okay."</i></p>
<p>Now you knew why.</p>
<p>You shuddered away from his touch. "I'm really gonna need you to leave me alone now, Fred."</p>
<p>He matched your pace as you made your way towards the dungeons. "Who had the pleasure of being on the other side of your yelling?" Why was he smiling. You hated the way his eyes crinkled with humor.</p>
<p>"You if you don't go."</p>
<p>"Aw, no need to be like that," he cooed. "What's got you all twisty?" He reached out a hand, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. You were sure he would yank on it any second now. A school yard bully.</p>
<p>But he didn't. He swept the hairs behind your ear. Gentle. Gentle. Gentle. Your body was screaming for you to run, aggression to reverse his tenderness. Tension ate away at your bones as you slid to a stop.</p>
<p>The words were out before you could stop them: "Did you <i>Accio</i> the ping-pong ball? So that I would have to kiss you?" There was no accusation in your tone, just coldness. You feared that if you didn't focus on sounding steady, a sob might slip out along with the words.</p>
<p>Fred's easy manner stilted. You had never seen him so serious. "Who told you that?"</p>
<p>"Does it matter? Did you or didn't you?"</p>
<p>He seemed unsure, as if he couldn't decipher which answer you were looking for. His words came out slower. "I mean yeah. I saw a pretty girl," he paused with a smile. You weren't flattered. "And you seemed nervous. I was doing you a favor." He finished with a shrug.</p>
<p>Emotion came crashing down on you in waves. The exhaustion was starting to catch up with you as you leaned against the cool walls of the castle, resting your feverish head against the stone.</p>
<p>
  <i>...Your arms tightened around him...</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>...He met you, kiss after kiss...</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>...Your legs straddled his...</i>
</p>
<p>You had thought you were in control. Really, you were playing right into his hand.</p>
<p>"You have a strange definition of favor, Weasley." The voice was cold, quiet. Not Fred. You pushed off the stone, glancing upward. Malfoy stood stiffly, taking in the scene in front of him.</p>
<p>"Shut it Malfoy. We all know the bottle was going towards you and I'm sure Y/N would've preferred a toad over you."</p>
<p>"At least toads don't take advantage of girls." Malfoy took several steps towards you. Soon enough, his hand was around your wrist, tugging softly. You weren't sure where he was leading you until the doors of the Potions classroom shut with their characteristic finality.</p>
<p>Malfoy helped you into a chair as you collected your thoughts. He was off somewhere to your right muttering <i>asshole</i> this <i>kill him</i> that. You weren't too sure what he was so upset about considering how this all came to fruition.</p>
<p>You were spiraling. Breaths came out in short huffs as you rested your head in a palm. Everything felt <i>wrong</i>. Why were none of your decisions your own? Why were you always operating on the bare minimum of information? How many more puddles could you find yourself drowning in? Twice now you've branded yourself a homewrecker and a whore without even knowing those were the roles you were stepping into.</p>
<p>Malfoy's voice was louder now. His hushed threats more clear. You looked up to find him crouched in front of you, searching for your eyes. He had a dangerous look about him as you met him with sorrow. "I could kill him," he whispered.</p>
<p>His face was inches from yours.</p>
<p>"And what would that accomplish," you said with a wry smile.</p>
<p>"World peace?"</p>
<p>It was stupid. He was stupid. You kissed him anyway. If you were going to drown, let it be in the sea. Let it be your fault, your choice. You needed to give yourself something to be sorry for, or else the grief would consume you whole.</p>
<p>His lips moved against yours and you could taste the salt of your tears on his tongue. He was being gentle, as if to say sorry with his mouth rather than his words. You didn't want apologies. You wanted punishment.</p>
<p>You were spiraling, but it wasn't out. Inwards, you were coiling, your thoughts feverish with you didn't know what.</p>
<p>But you did know. Control. This was power, and you were using it to hurt your friend. Yourself.</p>
<p>But, Merlin, did it feel good.</p>
<p>His hands were on you waist now, trying to close the distance between you two. You shuffled forward to help, but your legs collapsed, your knees crashing towards the ground, towards Draco's crouching form. He braced your fall, the both of you now kneeling as if in prayer. His hand on your thigh was anything but holy.</p>
<p>What was that muggle play? <i>For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Good pilgrim, you don't give your hand enough credit.</i></p>
<p>The passed few days has been a cloud of sorrow that you could never quite place. Sorrow for having betrayed Pansy. Sorrow for the parents you would never know. Sorrow now for having let yourself be taken advantage of. But this. This time it was your fault, and you couldn't help but revel in the fact it was you causing the hurt. If only it didn't have consequences beyond Malfoy's lips on yours.</p>
<p>Consequences. You released from the boy with a gasp, eyes glazed. Almost as quickly did he attach himself to your neck, sucking at what was sure to be another love bite on the sensitive skin. His fingers dug into your waist as you whimpered.</p>
<p>Focus. Something about Pansy? Pansy. Pansy! She loved him! Oh Merlin.</p>
<p>You froze under Draco's touch. He retreated, finding your eyes, questioning, confused. He waited silently for an explanation. You glanced down to find him half hard and you shivered with lust or disgust, you couldn't be sure.</p>
<p>Revolted by your own desire, you stood to collect your thoughts. Malfoy joined you after a moment, face flushed as anything—not from embarrassment but wanting.</p>
<p>This is what you wanted. An act to pin your guilt on. Something to say sorry for. To Pansy. Now it was your turn to make this right.</p>
<p>The air was tangibly colder without the latent heat of Malfoy's skin against yours. But you needed distance to say what needed to be said. "We need to talk about Pansy."</p>
<p>"Pansy?" His face went blank, betraying little to no connection with that name. As if you didn't see them sidled up right next to each other every day at lunch.</p>
<p>You sighed deeply, collecting the courage to continue. "I—This wasn't supposed to happen," you motioned between the two of you. "Not the first time. Not this time." Malfoy looked as if he was about to disagree.</p>
<p>You spoke again. "Pansy has reason to believe you may still have feelings for her...And she still has feelings for you."</p>
<p>Malfoy snorted. "I don't know where she could've possibly gotten that idea."</p>
<p>"No? She saw your Amortentia sheet." He was quiet at that. You pinched the bridge of your nose in a show of outward frustration. "Look, it doesn't matter. She wanted me to mediate a conversation between the two of you for "closure" or whatever. Since we won't be getting any actual potions done tomorrow, can we get this over with then? We'll be here either way. " You had to admit, your dejected tone wasn't entirely convincing. Not at all really.</p>
<p>"And then what?" He spoke softly. You thought his hand might've twitched by his side. "Tell her about us?"</p>
<p>Your skin crawled at the suggestion. "Us? There is no us."</p>
<p>He took a step closer. His arms caged you against a desk, the small of your back hitting squarely against its edge. "I beg to differ."</p>
<p>Isn't this what you wanted? Not Malfoy. You couldn't imagine wanting Malfoy passed his body, and certainly he felt the same. But the guilt. You had sealed your fate the second time you pressed your lips against his, and still, some part of you wanted to keep the memory to yourself. Beyond Pansy's judgement.</p>
<p>"Frankly Malfoy, I don't care what you tell her as long as you stop stringing her along. No more fucking around. You're loyal to her or you leave her the fuck alone. Either way, we won't be happening again."</p>
<p>You realized your hypocrisy in the whole loyalty department. That girl deserved better than the two of you, but this was the best you could give her for now. "Please," you added for good measure. "She's confused and she's hurting. Can you do this for her?"</p>
<p>Malfoy's silver eyes softened behind pale lashes and you knew he would say yes. He cared for her. They were cut from the same cloth, after all. They both had an inevitability about them. That pull which you utterly lacked. How could they ever resist the other's gravity when even you continued hurtling a path to sure destruction?</p>
<p>His hand brushed your shoulder, drew a line to your throat. You were sure he would kiss you again. You weren't sure you would stop him. But he didn't.</p>
<p>Drawing his wand, he whispered a rueful <i>Episkey</i> to the mark on your neck. When his thumb pressed into the spot you felt no ache but that in your chest.</p>
<p>You watched in silence as Malfoy shut the potions door behind him. You didn't want to catch him in the corridor, choosing instead to wait long enough for him to have safely made it back to his dorm before following.</p>
<p>Slipping into bed, you drained the last of your Dreamless Sleep, preparing nonetheless for your parent's sad smiles and another sleepless night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>RIP Fred</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Talks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ayo so this chapter is more than 2x the amount I usually write so I'll be going back and editing the less thoroughly reviewed sections in the next few days. Thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>A beam of shimmering red light arches in the air. Another presses, sparking with effort. Your mother shrinks, two hands shaking to support her wand as your father casts another bloody streak, some unknown opponent matching his strength. </i>
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  <i>It's not long before your parent's spells fizzle, clearly the product of exhaustion and fumes. But it's enough. Within moments they're laid out prostrate on the ground struck by twin bolts. You're surprised when your mother turns to you, her eyes glazed. You look down to find your hands, your polished Ilvermorny shoes, your Pukwudgie robes. This is the first time you played any role outside of the observer. Legs stiffened, prepared to run to your parents' sides, you see your mother's lips move. Unmistakably, they form the word run.</i>
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<p>You awoke with a shiver. Your hands were clammy with cold sweat, reaching, searching--searching for the bottle of Dreamless Sleep. A hand brushed the cool glass, twirled the flask to find it empty. You wrapped tight fingers around the neck. With no forethought, the glass went flying at the wall.</p>
<p>The violent shattering was almost enough to make you flinch, but perfectly enough to keep you awake. Your hand reached for one of the empty bottles that lined your bedside. Felt the weight in your hand. Another crash. You repeated this action for you don't know how long, the occasional Tergeo returning the shards to their original form, and more importantly, into your hand. You needed to stay awake.</p>
<p>By the time morning light was streaming through the windows, you were ready to collapse. Despite it, you readied yourself for the day ahead. Actually combing your hair seemed a fruitless endeavor, and your eyes, framed by dark smudges, were far beyond the bounds of a typical morning routine.</p>
<p>Your glamour work wasn't impeccable, but it was enough. The dark purple of your under eyes faded to a faint pink and your hair resembled somewhat of a carefully careless updo rather than the matted mess it had become after some hours of tossing and turning. Sighing into a sweater, you resolved to visit Madame Pomfrey after class. Maybe she had something stronger than Dreamless Sleep. And if not, a coma would do you just fine if it meant sleeping through the night.</p>
<p>With a final glance to the mirror, you resolved to trudge down to the common room. Your grip remained tight on the balustrade, watching the passage of your feet as they carried you stair to stair. </p>
<p>Finally glancing up, you spotted Pansy curled up on the couch with a book in her lap. Her eyes lit upon you, a dread settling in your stomach as she waved you over. She inspected you closely as you settled into the cushion to her right, a question in her eyes. There was no mention of your own tired eyes, so you decided the glamours, at least, were doing their job.  "So did you get it all sorted with Draco? When we'll be meeting?" Her face carried an easy nonchalance to match her tone.</p>
<p>There was a pang in your stomach as you acknowledged, really for the first time, that this would be happening. You were reminded of Malfoy's question, his declaration of an "us." And what to tell Pansy about it all. You needed to, had to. But some resolute part of you wanted to pretend, still, that those kisses had meant nothing when in reality, you weren't too sure.</p>
<p>But what could that possibly accomplish? </p>
<p>You wanted to run a hand over your face. Desperately needed some coffee before you could properly piece together how to proceed. Instead, you schooled your anxiety, matched Pansy's composure as you chose your next words. "Yeah, yeah. Just go ahead and meet us in the Potions classroom at 7!"</p>
<p>"And Draco knows? You're not just springing me on him, right?"</p>
<p>You clutched your chest, "How could you think so lowly of me, dearest Pansy?" More serious, "But of course, he knows. And he wants to talk, too."</p>
<p>She let that last piece of information settle in the air. But slowly, slowly, her lips were quirking into a smile, and her arms were lifting from their sides. Without warning, she was on you, drawing you into a firm hug. You tensed in her embrace, if only for a second, before squeezing her back equally as hard. "Thank you," she whispered, and you knew what you had to do.</p>
<p>Almost unwilling to let go, Pansy removed herself after another minute, proceeding to shoo you off to breakfast as she returned to her book. You didn't miss the little smile she kept as she read.</p>
<p>You couldn't tell Pansy. At least not yet. Let her and Draco figure out how they wanted to proceed before you wrecked whatever progress they had, however little. All the same, you had to wonder what Malfoy's stake in all this was. Did he want Pansy back? Did he want to end things? Were you, in some way, a deciding factor and how he would approach this conversation? </p>
<p>Filling up on pancakes and barely caffeinated Earl Grey in the Great Hall, you made your way to Muggle Studies. You were out within seconds. Not that it was uncommon to fall asleep the second Professor Burbage started his lectures, but it was funny think about a classroom with 20 unconscious, 1 dead.</p>
<p>Divination was an equally nice parlay. It was one of those rainy days, the ones where Trelawney drew the curtains, lit the thousands of candles, each like a glittering star. Something about this Friday morning compelled Professor Trelawney to entertain a lazy day. No tea, no cards, no fortunes. </p>
<p>Instead, she instructed you all to lay on your backs, heads supported by the various available cushions, or in spite of that, one another. Glancing about the classroom, you noticed how it was mostly boys who found piling up on one another to be immensely amusing, someone shouting "Carcass time!" as they assembled their stack of limbs. You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. </p>
<p>You and Pansy shared a pillow as Trelawney projected a star map onto the domed ceiling of the tower, immediately jumping into a story about Lyra and Orpheus. Your eyes strayed to the sweeping lines of Draco, only a couple hundred light years away from Lyra, as Trelawney weaved her way in and out of the strewn out bodies of students.</p>
<p>Your eyes shut of their own accord, and you found yourself being shaken awake by Professor Trelawney less than an hour later. You thanked her sheepishly, hurrying out of the classroom before Pansy could grab her things. </p>
<p>As you took the steps, you sensed a peculiar weight in your school bag. You slung the satchel to the front, digging through the pockets with a single hand. Your fingers brushed on something smooth. Almost nervous to fish them out, you dumped what seemed to be stones into your hand. It seemed Professor Trelawney had snuck two crystals, one pink, one orange into your satchel. </p>
<p>Hours later, in the Dining Hall, you asked Neville what the crystals might be. His face lit up as he examined the stones, identifying them as rose quartz and carnelian respectively. He explained how on occasion, Professor Sprout would use crystals to encourage plant growth, and that carnelian was particularly energizing. </p>
<p>Crystal caffeine! You could laugh. </p>
<p>You asked about the rose quartz, and Neville remained relatively stumped. Hermione jumped in (after a minute of clarifying she didn't believe any of this "crystal stuff" for a second), explaining that rose quartz  is tied to gentleness and love, and supposedly helped to reset the heart chakra and release stress. </p>
<p>You wondered what could've possibly compelled your professor to go meddling in your love life, but you supposed the sentiment was nice enough. </p>
<p>You were nearly falling asleep in your potatoes and mash by the time Neville  asked if anything was wrong. Waving him off, you excused yourself to Madam Pomfrey's, reasoning that this was as good a time as any. Neville being Neville, of course, offered to walk you. Wishing him a good rest of his dinner, you turned down the offer and gathered your things.</p>
<p>Alone with your thoughts, the stretch of corridors gave you plenty of time to ponder what might be going down in the potions classroom in an hour. Your hands encircled the crystals redepositing them into your school robes. You hoped they might, by some miracle, bring you confidence or energy or something. Maybe Madam Pomfrey would be willing to spare your sorry soul some calming draught. You somehow doubted it.</p>
<p>As you came upon the hospital wing, you found the door ajar. You worried that some emergency had taken precedence over properly closing the doors. You were proven right as you walked in. Madam Pomfrey glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Her narrowed eyes passed over you with a stern sort of kindness as she motioned for you to take your seat and wait your turn.</p>
<p>Clearly not a priority, your curious eyes took in the series of occupied beds. They caught on a shock of ginger hair and your heart skipped a beat. Ron? You took a few steps forward. You hadn't seen him in the dining hall the past few days, nor Harry for that matter, but that wasn't uncommon. The Golden Trio was always off getting themselves in some type of trouble.</p>
<p>Tentatively pushing back the privacy curtain of the cot in question, you were met with another ginger. Lankier, taller, older. You sheathed the curtains back into place with a frenzy, turning on your heel to leave.</p>
<p>A voice. "Y/N! Hey, Y/N!" You cringed as you turned to face the cot once more. Through the curtain, he spoke again. "Come back here you coward! It's George." </p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>You sighed with relief. Immediately ducking back through the curtains, you took in George, snuggled up under some covers.</p>
<p>At first glance, they did look rather similar. Of course they did, but there was also something stronger about George, more solid. His hands moved with assurance and he spoke with a slow and calming cadence--a long stretch from what you could only describe as Fred's easy jokiness. But there was certainly something of Fred in him as well, or maybe it was a Weasley quality you could observe in the particular quirk of his smile. Something both devious and charming.</p>
<p>George patted a portion of the bed next to him. You sat gladly, your legs heavy with exhaustion. As you settled into the wane cushion of the hospital cot, George lifted himself into a half sitting position by his arms. You could see for the first time a streak of soot climbing up his right side.</p>
<p>"So," George began. "You're avoiding Fred, aren't you?" You started your protests, but he cut you off with a teasing nudge of the shoulder. "Come on, there's no convincing me otherwise with that little performance of yours."</p>
<p>You returned his smile with a sigh. "Right well..." you pointed to the soot. "Is that why you're in here?"</p>
<p>"Ooo clever you! Distracting me with talk of my accomplishments. I'll entertain you only briefly, and only because it involves our dear Fred as well." The boy proceeded to string you into a tale of pranks, sabotage, and Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Apparently, the rest of the hospital wing was filled with students caught in the crossfire. Rather than flying upwards, the fireworks had set off while at torso level, attacking students like bludgers on the Quidditch field. George laughed away the incident, but there was a sadness to his smile.</p>
<p>"So where's your partner in crime?" You joked.</p>
<p>He adjusted, sitting somewhat straighter. "Ah well. I crafted this whole plan to cheer Fred up. He's been in a proper foul mood all day, so when things went to shit...he made sure everyone got to the Hospital Wing, naturally, but he refused help himself and left without a word to me or the others. I thought I had pissed him off somehow, but then, when you went running the second you thought I was him..." He looked at you, expectantly.</p>
<p>You weren't sure what to say. Did George know his brother had been parading around his stolen kiss? And if not, would he see it Fred's way after all? </p>
<p>"I suppose we did get into a bit of a...spat..." George waved you on. Something in his easy posture told you to chance it. "Look, do you remember that spin the bottle game?"</p>
<p>He nodded, affirmative.</p>
<p>"Apparently Fred had been going around bragging about the fact he had Accio-ed a ping-pong ball over to get the bottle to land on him. And if you can't tell," you added, "I'm a bit pissed about it."</p>
<p>George's face went blank as he processed this information. Then white. Then red. Gingers really were quite easy to read, and you were grateful for it. Anger bled through his skin just as surely as it showed in the furrow of his brow and clenching of fists. He schooled his face, careful, before meeting your eyes once more.</p>
<p>His words were quiet. Stern. "That bloody idiot."</p>
<p>The simple denouncement of his brother's actions filled you with relief. And then a great sadness as you fully acknowledged the weight of what had happened. A quiet sob escaped your lungs and you clapped a shaking hand to your mouth, embarrassed. </p>
<p>George's eyes narrowed on you, considered. Not a second passed--his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest with an insistence you were wary to reject. His kindness elicited another sob, and another, and soon enough you couldn't stop. </p>
<p>You felt impossibly warm, overly conscious of his arms around you as you tried and failed to quiet your shuddering breaths. George didn't know you nearly well enough to be showing you such concern, and yet--You were glad for it. He remained silent, resting his chin on the top of your head. Only when the tears came to an end did he speak again.</p>
<p>His voice rumbled from above. "You know, I really can't believe him. He'd been talking about this cute American girl for a week or so and when we heard word of the Slytherin party he was right on it. I'd never seen him so worked up about a girl before so when I saw that bottle land on him, well I cheered him on, that bloody bastard."</p>
<p>Sometime while he was talking, you had pulled away from George's embrace to fully see his expressions as he spoke. He continued: "Don't worry, Y/N. I'll be giving him a stern talking to. We've been parenting each other all our lives, what with a brood of other siblings." George noticed your growing amusement and allowed himself to fall into dramatics. With a hand to his temple he cried, "Oh, where did I go wrong?? Have you met a more terrible mother!"</p>
<p>You slapped his chest with a laugh. "Stupid." But you couldn't suppress the smile. You also couldn't believe what he was saying. Fred had his eyes on you even before the party? You couldn't help but feel a little bit flattered. George placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking it lightly to get your attention.</p>
<p>"Look, you're under absolutely no obligation to see or talk to Fred ever again. I'll make sure of it if it's your decision. But if you do by some off chance want to sort some things out with him..." George paused to retrieve something from his back pocket. Producing a yellowed piece of parchment, the boy whispered something to the tune of I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. You glanced down, curious, as the once blank parchment began scribbling out a map of the Hogwarts grounds. Glancing at the Hospital wing, you could see two points labeled "George" and "Y/N" respectively. You shuddered with excitement, but before you could get a good look at the rest, George was pulling it back up to his face, examining. </p>
<p>"Ah, of course," he brought the map back into view, pointing at a lonely dot labeled "Fred." He mumbled a quiet Mischief managed before tucking the parchment back into his pocket. "He's at the Astronomy Tower if you want to give him a proper piece of your mind."</p>
<p>You nodded, regretting having to leave the surprisingly comfortable cot. "A pleasure doing business with you, George."</p>
<p>"The pleasure's all mine," he said, a sparkle in his eyes.</p>
<p>You made sure to shut the curtains as you made your trek to the Astronomy tower. A glance at the clock told you that you had 30 minutes before you had to be in the Potions classroom. You were dreading it more than anything. But then again, you had something new to dread now.</p>
<p>You pulled your school robes tighter as you crossed outdoors to the staircase that led up to the tower. It was an essentially abandoned portion of the castle with no active classes taking place within its walls. You wondered if that was the exact reason why Fred had sought solstice in the admittedly less than comfortable and terribly cold tower.</p>
<p>The closer you came to the end of the steps, the louder your feet echoed. You tried your best to tread lightly. As it turned out, to no avail. Fred met you at the top of the steps, a tense furrow to his brow that faded to an easy blankness when the recognition settled in his eyes. The two of you stood silently, taking the other in.</p>
<p>He didn't seem to be hurt. The only sign he'd been caught in the middle of the Filibuster fiasco was a shock of gray soot painting his otherwise orange hair. </p>
<p>He was the first to speak: "What are you doing here?" There was no accusation in his tone, but rather some combination of confusion and surprise.</p>
<p>You sped passed him and to the tower's balcony. It was easier to look at the view than it was too look at Fred. "I'm not sure," you answered honestly. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "I had a chat with George and he says you've been in a 'proper foul mood' since yesterday." The phrase sounded utterly and incorrectly posh coming out of your mouth. The corner of Fred's lips quirked with the wrongness of the sound. You corrected yourself, "His words, not mine."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I figured," he said with humor. You leaned against the balcony, observing how Fred lowered himself onto the stone floor to dangle his legs through the railing and off the edge. Deciding to test fate yourself, you joined him, the two of you facing the view. Some miscalculations landed you less than two feet away from him, but you didn't dare to move.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry!" Fred blurted from the silence. You chanced a glance at him to find he was already looking at you. His face was crumpled with emotion as he parsed through the right words. "I am truly, so so sorry Y/N. I don't know what came over me I--No that's wrong. I knew exactly what I was doing and I didn't see anything wrong with it until it was too late. And for that, for everything, I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but please just know, I regret that kiss more than anything." You noticed how his hands moved as he talked. In the air, to the back of his neck, through his hair. His eyes landed on his lap and they didn't leave.</p>
<p>"Okay," you said, little more than a whisper.</p>
<p>"And I'm sorry for suggesting it was a 'favor' to you. I was just surprised that you found out and it was the first idiotic thing I could think to say."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>"And I'm sorry for calling Malfoy a toad. He kind of deserves that one though."</p>
<p>"Okay," you laughed. </p>
<p>His eyes met yours. "Okay?"</p>
<p>There was an overwhelming amount of sincerity in his gaze. It unnerved you, in a way, so you decided to change the subject. "Georgie told me about your little crush on me."</p>
<p>Fred's face turned a brilliant shade of red, painting his ears, and neck, and further, you couldn't tell. His mouth hung open, just slightly. "I--what--y-yes but? Maybe? I don't see how this is relevant it doesn't excuse any of my behavior!"</p>
<p>You fought a grin, schooling yourself as best you could. "No, no it doesn't," you confirmed, nudging his shoulders so that he would meet your eyes. "But I forgive you."</p>
<p>His lips wavered as he looked at you, eyes wide again, but this time with something unplaceable. Awe, maybe? He leaned into your touch, hesitant. "Okay."</p>
<p>You had never seen Fred like this, so reserved. You weren't sure you liked it, too ready to make an idiot out of yourself to relieve some of the latent tension. Nudging him again, you placed a hand to either of his temples, fixing yourself with a look of deep concentration. His confusion heightened further as you spoke. "Aaaaand, done!</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, what are you--"</p>
<p>You withdrew your hands with a laugh. "We're good now. Memory gone."</p>
<p>"You can't just--"</p>
<p>"Nothing happened."</p>
<p>"Nothing happened?"</p>
<p>"So you agree?"</p>
<p>The bewilderment didn't leave his face, but his lips now struggled to conceal a smile. "I suppose I do."</p>
<p>"Great! Now if my calculations are correct..." you fished your wand out of a pocket, placing it on the floor between the two of you. Fred watched with interest as the friction of wood against stone gave you one good spin before the wand landed on yourself. You flicked it with a laugh, making sure Fred Weasley was now on the receiving end. "I do believe a kiss is in order."</p>
<p>"A kiss?" he grinned.</p>
<p>"Why of course. The crowd is getting antsy," you motioned to your audience of trees, a perfectly suitable stand-in for a rowdy bunch of party-going students.</p>
<p>A hesitant hand cupped the side of your face, Fred's lips sporting what could only be described as a dopey grin. "May I?"</p>
<p>"Good boy," you whispered, now inches closer. Your eyes lingered on his lips is the most obvious fashion possible before sliding up to meet his gaze. "You may."</p>
<p>His nose brushed yours with a gentleness. And slowly, so slowly, his lips were on yours. The two of you moved with a prior knowledge of how to fit together. Your hand grasped his nape, pulling him closer. His free hand slotted into your waist, slipping down to your thigh. Your mouths remained slow, lingering on each kiss, before silently agreeing to pull away with one final peck. </p>
<p>Having grown infinitely more crooked throughout the night, you wondered what might happen to Fred's smile if you kissed him just one more time. But you refrained. "Good. The kissing court has been convened. Justice served." You spoke with humor despite the daze. </p>
<p>His hand remained at your cheek, thumb sweeping slowly across your face. But his eyes, they narrowed silently, and suddenly he was pulling you close again. Not for a kiss, but with a hardness to his gaze.</p>
<p>"Is that--Are you using a glamour? And is that a black eye?" His voice edged on deep concern. He was trying not to scare you.</p>
<p>"Merlin, no! I mean yes, I'm using a glamour, but it's just for my dark circles," You watched as his eyebrows drew in confusion. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately," you admitted.</p>
<p>Silence hung in the air for a beat, and the The of his next question revealed a hesitancy to push you. "Why?" </p>
<p>You weren't sure where to start, what to reveal. Memories of Draco's dorm room and the hateful words he had spouted offered you little guidance. "I've been having dreams. Of my parents specifically." He urged you to continue. "I've been taking Dreamless Sleep, downing the stuff, really, but I keep having them and I'd much prefer if they'd stop." </p>
<p>Fred considered for a moment. "You said they keep happening, despite the Dreamless Sleep?" You nodded in confirmation. "Darling, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think those are dreams. Have you been having any of the normal ones? Unicorns and rainbows, that type of stuff?" You shook your head this time, confused. </p>
<p>He moved to face you completely. "Y/N...it's impossible to dream while taking Dreamless Sleep. I reckon the potion is actually doing its job. What exactly happens in these 'dreams' of yours?"</p>
<p>You shrugged, hoping to conceal your growing anxiety. "I dunno, I guess they're nightmares. It's the same scene for the most part. My parents are dueling someone, or maybe someones? I'm not sure. There's always some sort of back and forth before they're struck and well...die." </p>
<p>"Are you sure these aren't memories?" </p>
<p>You wanted to scoff at the absurdity, the anxiety lifting as you could easily refute to the question. "No. Definitely not. My parents died when I was young. Suicide, so definitely not whatever I'm seeing," you shrugged away Fred's discomfort at learning of your parent's deaths. You squeezed his hand, assuring him it was fine with a tight-lipped smile.</p>
<p>"Implanted memories then. Someone placed a false memory into your subconscious to mess with you and its getting passed the Dreamless Sleep. Kind of brilliant, I must say. Might use that one in the future, maybe a less dour subject, but it's really quite interesting how that works..."  You could see the cogs whirring in Fred's brain, always the trickster. You couldn't help but laugh.</p>
<p>But if he was right..."You know Fred, you're a lot smarter than people give you credit for. I might actually get some sleep soon thanks to you. All I'd have to do is brew some type of memory retrieval potion and maybe..." speaking of brewing. You grasped your wand, casting a clever little time keeping spell to reveal that it was 7:10 on the dot.</p>
<p>"Shit!"</p>
<p>"What? What's wrong?"</p>
<p>"I was supposed to be in the Potions classroom ten minutes ago!" You left Fred no time to respond, latching onto the sleeve of his school robes and tugging him down the winding Astronomy staircase. </p>
<p>"Will you escort me Fred? Why of course, M'lady! Oh thank you, Fred, my savior!" Fred murmured to himself, evidently using a high-pitched voice to mimic your role in this one-sided conversation. </p>
<p>"Oh, get over yourself," you slapped his shoulder. "I'm going to need the emotional support." </p>
<p>"Merlin, what's going on in the Potion's classroom that I need to know about?" You glanced to find him intrigued. Your hand didn't leave his sleeve as you continued pulling him through the mostly abandoned corridors of Hogwarts castle.</p>
<p>You began with a dramatic sigh. "I somehow got myself roped into coaching Pansy and Draco through some relationship drama. Usually I'd be enduring a completely useless tutoring session due to some of Snape's bullshit, but I think this just might top the cake for ridiculous things I've done this school year so far."</p>
<p>Fred's laugh bellowed through the corridors. You elbowed him in the stomach to quiet him, but he only bent over in silent, wheezing giggles. "Come oooon, it's not <i>that</i> funny. We're almost there, Weasley. I don't have time to lose."</p>
<p>Finally rounding on the Potion's classroom, the two of you paused to catch your breaths, Fred nursing the wounds from your occasional assault. You feared what might be on the other side. You couldn't hear any bickering, but the door was also a foot thick. Were they ignoring each other? Did one of them leave? What in the world would you be getting yourself into once opening the door. </p>
<p>You glanced at Fred for confidence. He met you with an amused smile. "You ready?"</p>
<p>"As I'll ever be."</p>
<p>You gathered your final convictions and heaved the door open with a sigh.</p>
<p>You wish you hadn't. </p>
<p>"Are they--Oh wow, she's flexible," Fred bent to whisper in your ear. You clapped a hand across his mouth, and then one across your own, because dear lord Draco and Pansy were going at it in the Potions classroom. </p>
<p>You slammed the door closed and ran.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. And More Talks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I can't believe I had to see that."</p><p>"Oi! No one told you to burst in like that!"</p><p>"I beg to differ!"</p><p>It was a lazy Saturday morning. Very few students milled about the castle at this hour, even fewer took residence in the Great Hall. All the same, both you and Pansy thought it best to snatch some breakfast and find some place to talk, away from listening ears.</p><p>The agreement was come upon silently.</p><p>You couldn't sleep, but that wasn't anything new. The common room beckoned to you sometime around six, and you answered the call. It was too easy to fall asleep under the warmth of your covers, so you found the most uncomfortable chair, situated yourself with the most interesting book you could find, and read. Your eyes dried on the words, fixated on the story so as not to be consumed by the lake's lullaby, lapping up against the window in calm greens and blues.</p><p>Then there was Pansy, skulking down the steps of the girl dorms sometime around seven. You hardly noticed her at first, what with nearly falling asleep in your book. It was the sound of the common room door heaving with its characteristic squeak that drew your attention, and Pansy, looking for all the world like a puppy caught chewing on some particularly expensive shoes, was due for a scolding. Sheepish, to say the least.</p><p>In that moment, her stomach had growled so loudly that you didn't bother asking why she was up so early. And now, as the two of you settled in on the lake's shore for an early-morning picnic, Pansy seemed more interested in her egg sandwich than with following up on your outburst.</p><p>"Look," you side-eyed Pansy to make sure she was still mid-bite. "I'm happy for you. A little traumatized, but happy! Clearly something went right if you and Malfoy were..."</p><p>In her eagerness to avoid speech, Pansy finished her food in record time. Perhaps a bit regretful and with little else to fill the stretch of silence, she resorted to picking at the grass as you bit off portions of your blueberry muffin.</p><p>You refused to be the one to break.</p><p>Pansy was never really quiet. Perhaps at times hesitant, skeptical on occasion, but never quiet. You had a feeling this time the quiet stemmed from embarrassment. So when she finally did speak, it wasn't exactly timid, but you could tell there was a reluctance. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that."</p><p>You paused, hoping she would continue. Instead, she reached for a dandelion. It looked like you might have to do some heavy lifting.</p><p>"Alright...then how was it supposed to happen?"</p><p>You took another bite of muffin, awaiting her reply. You'd get more information out of a letter at this point. Maybe you should submit an inquiry with her by owl, because this was just painful. She plucked another dandelion, chaining them together in what you were sure would soon form a crown.</p><p>"I got to the Potion's classroom a little early. I was nervous."</p><p>"Okay, how early?"</p><p>"Skipped dinner early..." she winced. That explained her insatiable appetite this morning. That also placed Pans in the Potion's classroom at least an hour before the given time. You wondered how this was relevant, but decided it was best not to push her.</p><p>"Empty stomach. Potion's classroom. I'm not following. How does this lead to sex exactly?" She bristled slightly, returning to her weaving work. You watched as she pulled stems through stems through stems before finally settling on an answer.</p><p>"Since this all started with the Amortentia, I may have gotten into my head that it was best to brew some for the conversation. You know, as evidence, or whatever. I don't think--I don't think I could handle him telling me that there was never anything between us, and this way, he couldn't outright deny it."</p><p>"Alright, building your case. I like it," you approved. Pansy would make a good lawyer on one of those dramatic muggle TV shows.</p><p>"Yeah, something like that," she smiled more freely. Maybe talking through it like this was actually helpful. Her guards were dropping, at least enough to meet your eyes. She continued: "I was nearing the end of my batch when Draco came in. He was ten minutes early and I probably wouldn't have even noticed him if he hadn't bolted out of the room, the idiot. Clearly he hadn't been expecting me. Anyway, I started chasing after him, but Draco's fast so I...I accidently bumped the cauldron and..."</p><p>"Oh shit."</p><p>"Yeahh," Pansy shuddered next to you. "Some of it splashed on me. He was close enough that it got on him. Let's just say we were... compelled to bone."</p><p>You considered this for a moment. "First of all, I am terribly sorry that's how it went down." She nodded, understanding your meaning through the sparse use of words. "Second, you're telling me, all these years of fuss and warning from professors about not getting Amortentia on the skin, and it was all so we wouldn't  accidently start an orgy in the Potions classroom? Not that it wouldn't be awkward, Merlin, but they really made it sound like we were gonna die!"</p><p>You heard a giggle to your right. What you've learned in your time at Hogwarts so far has led you to believe the English are certainly no prudes, but a student-led amorous congress... You sprawled on your back, giggling at the image in your head. And Pansy, down a similar line of thinking, dropped her crown of flowers and joined you in cackling up at the sky.</p><p>The dread and sadness and anger of the past weeks shed from you like the tears you wiped from laughing eyes. Pansy must've been experiencing similar effects, rolling in the grass like a loon as she clutched at her stomach. It took far too long for the two of you to compose yourselves, and even then, any form of eye contact warranted another minute or two of ceaseless giggles.</p><p>Finally, finally, you were able to form a coherent sentence to get the two of you back on track. "So you guys didn't talk? Like at all?"</p><p>She shook her head, significantly more somber. "Not a wink. I ruined it all too fast, and now we have even more things to talk about." She groaned, ducking her head into her hands, running one across her face.</p><p>Yeah, that was one way to put it.</p><p>"Was it good at least?" You grinned at her crumpled form.</p><p>"Y/N!" Pansy's head shot up to reveal a scathing blush. You quirked a brow at her, determined. "<br/>
Fine, yes it was good. He always does this thing where he--"</p><p>"No! Didn't ask!"</p><p>"But you literally did!"</p><p>"Did not want details my dear."</p><p>Though Pansy had perked up from her laments, she replaced them with that impish look. You knew immediately the conversation would be taking a turn for the worst.</p><p>"Well then, any boy troubles in Y/N world?"</p><p>The words "boy" and "troubles" immediately conjured the image of a certain blond in your minds eye. </p><p>"Weeelll, there is a boy..." you trailed off, unthinking.</p><p>"Don't be cheeky with me. Go on!" Pansy smacked your shoulder. The action was excessively awkward as the two of you remained sprawled out on your backs, resulting in another bout of giggles. </p><p>You considered for a moment. Pansy had just spent the last half hour allowing you to pry at her heart's sorrows. It would only be fair to match her with your own. But little would she know just how similar your sorrows were. </p><p>That wasn't fair to her. You knew her sympathy wasn't deserved. Nor would you accept it. But she had asked, and you supposed you should deliver before she started questioning your hesitations. You'd just have to resolve to be a bit vague and pray she wouldn't go asking questions.</p><p>You stared up at the periwinkle sky. A cloud with the perfect symmetry of a heart was floating overhead and you managed a small smile. Where to start? "Alright, well, it mostly began as a bit of fun. There was a game beforehand, and I guess the adrenaline from that led to more--intimate things... He initiated it, but I think it came from a mutual understanding of this being a one-off, very situational hook up. No expectations." </p><p>You could see Pansy nod from the corner of your eye. Her head was propped up on folded arms, content to watch the clouds as you unraveled your tale of heart ache. You wondered who she thought you might be talking about. You hadn't exactly been seen around many boys other than Neville, and dear Merlin, you loved the boy, but <i>absolutely</i> not. </p><p>"And then we were fine for a while. We didn't go out of our way to speak to each other in class or out. But I mean, pretty soon after I learned something rather unsavory about the guy and his intentions, so there wasn't exactly a lot of time for talking." You were nearing on Pansy territory here and you had to be careful. She was the one who had warned you, after all. About Malfoy's many many flings and his distaste for commitment. It's when you first learned to love her. You should have listened more carefully. "So I stayed away." </p><p>Pansy's head lolled over to look at you. She grabbed your hand firmly and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry," she whispered.</p><p>You squeezed her hand back, unsure of why she had said so. If anything, you should be the one saying sorry. You matched her with a smile and continued.</p><p>"Until I kissed him again, that is."</p><p>"What?!"</p><p>"Yeahh not my best moment."</p><p>"When was this??"</p><p>"The other day, why?"</p><p>"You kissed Fred Weasley <i>the other day</i> and failed to tell me??"</p><p>Oh.</p><p>OH.</p><p>Fred Weasley? You supposed you had kissed him the other day. Oh Merlin, who even thinks that? Maybe you were the one turning into a fuck boy.</p><p>"How did you know about Fred?"</p><p>"Y/N! You're joking, right? I may have been out of my mind drunk, but I think I'd remember that game of spin the bottle. And come on, he was standing right next to you when you walked in on me and Draco. I thought we just weren't saying the name to make this less awkward. Like a confessional."</p><p>Well this was certainly a turn in conversation. The parallels were aligning in your head. It was too perfect. The right amount of vague and the right amount of context, and yeah, Fred Weasley could be swapped out for Draco Malfoy. You really had a way of choosing them, huh?</p><p>"Wait," she whispered, "Is that the night you guys kissed? Oh. My. Gods. Wait no, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm really really sorry, by the way. I heard Fred saying that dumb shit in the halls but I was so caught up in my own drama I didn't even think to ask how you were feeling. I'm a terrible friend," she slapped your shoulder again. "But you kissed?? You kissed <i>him</i>? Not the other way around? When, why, where?" </p><p>You needed to pivot. You hadn't really considered keeping the Fred thing away from Pansy, but you also hadn't really considered telling her. It was almost insignificant, in a way. </p><p>You relayed the series of events as closely as you could remember. Now that you didn't have to worry about concealing detail, you were all too happy to give them away. You talked about the soot in George's hair, his hug, the Astronomy tower, the apology. The kiss. Pansy was taken with giggles, proclaiming what a romantic you were. You weren't sure you agreed, but if she wanted to think you were smooth with the dudes...why not?</p><p>"Oh Merlin, the crystals!"</p><p>"What about them?" You laughed. Pansy was whipped into a full on frenzy. She drank in your words, painted them far pinker in her mind than they had been when you were actually living them.</p><p>"I mean, I don't usually believe in Trelawney's BS, but do you think it might've helped?" Pansy spoke in a hush. You laughed at her. "No, seriously! What possibly compelled you to forgive Fred? I would've held that against him for <i>years</i>."</p><p>"Maybe because I'm a good person?" You smirked at her. But that pronouncement of years. That worried you, even with your mind going a million miles a minute.</p><p>You couldn't quite separate your thoughts and actions and emotions from that night. How one thing led to the other. Which influenced which. They had been intertwined to a heightened effect, and now you were unsure. </p><p>George's arms around you hadn't felt like a simple touch, but they had burned, filled you with comfort and compassion and tears. And you weren't a crier. Had that been him? Or some rocks?</p><p>And Fred. Had his eyes really been filled with a painful amount of regret? So much so, that you couldn't bear to look at him, had to break the tension thick like molasses around the two of you. Or were you unreasonably influenced to look for the regret in his eyes?</p><p>A sinking feeling accompanied your not-knowing. Memories weren't concrete--that's another thing you had learned from that day--but still...</p><p>"I'm gonna have to have a chat with Trelawney, aren't I?"</p><p>Her grin widened. Pansy stood with a start, immediately started packing her school bag with the left over grape vines and stray food wrappers from your breakfast . "We should get going in that case."</p><p>You watched from an upright position as she scrambled to clean up, clearly excited to see what Trelawney had to say about all this. A little too excited. Was this a Draco thing? Did she maybe want to...you weren't sure. If these magic rocks really did break down barriers, you supposed it might be helpful in approaching a conversation with the guy, but the ethics were certainly questionable. </p><p>Pansy grasped your hands, wrenched you up and to a standing position before taking off. You were on her heals, doing your best to match her strides. There was little talk in the halls, just Pansy's piercing determination as she bolted towards the North Tower. It almost would've been amusing if you weren't about to lose a lung.</p><p>The Divination classroom was strangely still. You were used to the chatter of students, the clink of wind chimes, the patterning of colors from the stained glass glowing against the walls and floor and ceiling. No Trelawney either.</p><p>Pansy insisted the two of you wait for her return, immediately gravitating to a glass display of several rocks and crystals. </p><p>"Quartz, amethyst, citrine, ruby, moldavite..."</p><p>"Please don't go stealing the rocks, Pans."</p><p>"Just looking! I don't see any rose quartz in any case, and that's the only thing worth stealing it seems."</p><p>Pansy's remark was followed with the swish of a curtain. You both chanced a glance backwards, nearly paralyzed with fright. In all her wild-haired begoggled brilliance stood Trelawney. Immediately, the room came to life. The wind chimes clinked, the curtains billowed with wind, and the sun propelled itself perfectly through bits of colored glass. </p><p>"No stealing necessary, my dear. I'm happy to give them away," she said, her skirts pooling at her feet. "Though, I do suggest you stay away from that moldavite." She floated closer, eyes winking with light.</p><p>"Nasty stuff."</p>
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